


Between Dusk and Dawn

by SylverStorms



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Consent is Sexy, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, General Warnings because Evelynn is Evelynn, K/DA mixed with Canon Universe, Lust, Possessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Tension, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 91,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21639931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylverStorms/pseuds/SylverStorms
Summary: For the longest time, she had been nothing. Less than a shadow, less than a wisp. But because she had been nothing, she wanted to own everything. Evelynn desired, more and more- power and fame and increasing agony.That was all the young Summoner was meant to be, the stepping stone to achieving her goals. After all, who could be foolish enough to expect affection from a being without a soul?
Relationships: Evelynn (League of Legends)/Original Character(s), Evelynn/Avarice
Comments: 195
Kudos: 258





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, before you begin reading this fic I should mention once again that the content may be explicit at certain points (We are talking about Evelynn after all) and feature heavily violent themes. 
> 
> That being said, a few points on my version of Eve; she is generally based on her new lore mixed with her K/DA one, as I love her new persona way more than her old lore. She hides what she truly is from the world --although they know she has beyond-human powers but most Champions do-- and her contract with the League makes it so nobody (like Vayne for example) can just out her as a demon. So she is a very popular diva with a dark secret. And just like in her k/da description there are merely 'rumors' about her. People can speculate but they don't *know*. Even within matches, her demon shade is 'camouflaged' and summoners/people still only see her 'human form' when she leaps out of it.
> 
> Your comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated! ^.^

**[???]**

The full moon hang low in the ink-black canvas of the night sky. Pale light cast its grace upon a grand mansion, a beautiful garden filled with exotic flowers... and upon the lone pair retreating from it all, painting their shadows onto the earth.

The woman, at the front, clad in a dress crimson as sin and twice as tight, steadily led the way into the darkness of the nearby woods. Behind her, the man trailed helplessly, lost in the anticipation of the moments to come, in the fire building at the pit of his stomach at every sensual sway of her hips.

Being the heir to a rich Noxian family, the young man had been with his fair share of gorgeous girls. Money could, after all, get him any woman he wished for, and it had, as he had chosen the most stunning among them to be his wife, and the mother of his two children. Yet never, in all his years, had he laid eyes upon such beauty –no, such sheer _perfection_.

The mysterious blonde woman had captivated every eye in the room as soon as she had stepped into the masquerade, moving with all the liquid finesse of a dancer in heels sharper than knives. Although nobles fell over themselves to engage her in a dance, she had instead opted for a drink, a glass of vintage wine that paled in comparison to the redness of her lips. Her eyes, the color of finely-cut ambers, scanned the room as though looking for something. They seemed to find it when her discerning gaze settled on him, a slow smile curving the edges of her pretty mouth. Beckoning, like a siren’s call.

The man then knew he _had_ to _have_ her.

Throughout the night, glances lingered and heated smiles fed his desire. When he found the strength to approach her and was not turned down in his suggestion to go somewhere private, he could hardly contain himself.

“I know just the place.” she had told him, voice smooth as the silk clinging so enticingly to her fair skin. 

Although the woods were not what he had first pictured, not with so many guest bedrooms available, complaining was the last thing on his mind. He never even cared to look how far into the forest they had gotten.

A generous amount of walking later, her steps slowed, coming to a stop. A grip surprisingly strong for such a delicate frame eased. She turned, eyes gleaming like raw gems as she flashed that sexy smile again. No sane man would ever say no to that smile.

And he just couldn’t wait anymore. He surged forward, pressing her back against a thick tree, lips molded onto her own, greedy hands grabbing at anything they could reach.

By the gods—she felt like _heaven_. Soft. Hot. Tasted a dozen different kinds of sweet.

He was beginning to wonder if an angel like her could even be real.

Her mouth, a burning lick of fire, broke from his own only to trail across his jaw to his ear. Pulses of pure need rolled down his body, to a part of him bulging and aching for her attention.

And then—

Then.

 _Agony_.

A sharp cry ripped itself from his throat.

The noble doubled over in pain, reaching up to his head only for his shaking hand to come back stained scarlet by blood. So _much_ of it, his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. He couldn’t _feel_ his ear there anymore and –her smile transformed into something wolfish, red and twisted.

“N-no, what are y—” he was beginning to panic, heart rate accelerating at the wrongness of her eyes then. At the shadow she cast, disproportional to her form.

“Shh, honey.” she cooed, cloyingly sweet, his blood staining her lips like a new brand of lipstick, running freely down her chin. “We’ve only just began.”

He had been wrong. So very wrong. Angels didn’t have eyes yellow and cold, nor smiles painted crimson.

Demons did.

…

**[Evelynn]**

Claws and lashers dug deeper into already torn flesh, drawing more blood to the surface, leaving gashes that held no hope of ever closing. Evelynn moaned high into the air, feeling the addictive power of nourishment tickle down her spine like warm raindrops, the echoes of _sensation_ crawling back in, deep, filling the void.

Golden eyes mirrored the moon in their bright glow. She was getting close to that peak of sheer, mindless pleasure, _closer_ –

Alas.

The ecstasy began to subside. Fast. Too fast.

“No, no, don’t die yet!” she growled out, impossibly frustrated, slapping her victim’s unrecognizable face as if to bring his consciousness back. Sadly, that could never happen, as the life had already fled his eyes. Or, well. His remaining eye.

Clenching her jaw, the demoness dropped his body unceremoniously. _What a disappointment._ He wouldn’t even last her two weeks. “Useless. Who does a girl have to kill to start another Rune War around here?”

_All that suffering…_

Turned into her strength.

Evelynn made her way through the forest, towards the other side. Each step she took, the wildlife all around her cowered, overwhelmed by the danger she posed. Wherever her gaze turned, the plants themselves shook in fright. And to think humans considered themselves the smarter species. Fooled so easily by their eyes, by their desires.

Shadows thickened and twisted into a solid form, flawless pale skin reflecting the moonlight, complete with perfectly styled magenta hair. Evelynn reached into the hollow of a tree bark and retrieved the set of clothes she had left there earlier, then the keys to her beauty of a car.

After adjusting her designer outfit, the diva the world idolised and fans worshipped made her way to her sleek black Lamborghini, settling with ease into the driver’s seat. As the engine roared to life, amber eyes fell on the clock –eleven past ten.

And… she was going to be late. Not even fashionably late. _Late_ -late.

Her cutie of a summoner would be left waiting a while, although it would no doubt be covered up by more talking from the casters’ desk, for the sake of the tournament. _Can I be at the League within an hour?_

_Oh, well. Time to step on it._

_…_

Fifty minutes and forty seconds later, Evelynn was double-parking right outside the entrance to the Grand arena, a thousand flashing lights and cameras swarming around her car, barely held back by security. She put on her mauve shades as she gracefully slid out of her seat, welcomed into the world by endless chants of her name. _As it should be._

Evelynn raised her clawed hand in a gesture of somewhat-recognition towards her fans, as she made her way into the massive corridor. The guards immediately parted to let her through to the backstage. Their admiration towards her chosen form reached her senses as easily as the familiar perfume of her summoner lingering in the air.

An easy smile spread across Evelynn’s lips. _She_ had gotten the girl that thousand-gold perfume, along with everything she wore. It marked her as her own —a signature, a brand. Her summoner was an extension of herself, after all, advertised as her perfect little pair to the world. And no part of hers could be anything less than stunning. Immaculate.

The allied team was gathered behind the curtain leading to the stage, four summoners by their chosen Champions’ sides and one pacing left and right. Evelynn’s smile turned into a wicked smirk at the sight. Reducing the volume of her presence, she slipped into the shadows for the couple of steps it took to reach the girl…

And suddenly threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her flush to her side.

“Hello, Avarice~” she greeted charmingly, watching her cute summoner turn three different shades of red. That _never_ grew old. “Miss me, darling?”

“Oh, we fucking missed you, alright. We were just about to go in four versus five if you were late another _second_.” Katarina Du Couteau sniped from her position against the wall, glaring daggers at her head. “You’re ganking mid big time for this.”

“I am not even going to _touch_ mid unless you say ‘please’ and you know it.” Evelynn chuckled low, still holding the girl close.

“I would rather swallow _acid_ and you know it.”

“Don’t give me ideas.”

“Ladies.” Darius interjected. “Can we finally ready check so we can get on with this game?”

As the team lined up and the signal was given for the host to begin hyping the crowd up for their entrance, Evelynn turned to her mage. “Avarice.” she whispered low so the others wouldn’t hear.

The girl turned to face her, quieter than usual. It wasn’t her first time on the big stage, being a Challenger for a few months up to that point, but it would be her first time at the forefront of every magazine and show for the days to come, at the center of the most influential tournament of the year; the World Cup. Anxiety was rolling off of her in waves and Evelynn did not have to be so attuned to her senses, after countless matches sharing the summoner-champion connection, to know exactly what she felt.

The demoness reached up to tuck a stray lock of shiny brown hair behind her ear. The stylists had done an amazing job, keeping her makeup simple to let her natural good looks glow on their own, adding navy highlights to the ends of her hair that merged perfectly with the deep, sea-blue of her eyes. “You look good enough to _eat_.” She complimented, observing another blush make its way across the girl’s face.

“Stop…” Avarice complained, which only made Evelynn want to continue. The merciless teasing, on and off camera, had been part of their dynamic for the two years of their exclusive partnership.

“Hey. Do you remember what I told you the first time we met?”

_Evelynn stepped out of the teleporting rune in a hurry. Something in that game was different,_ felt _different, and the fact it_ felt _like anything at all had her thoughts running a mile per minute trying to pinpoint why. She had never experienced her mind so perfectly in sync with her summoner’s will, to the point the faintest traces of their emotions during the match became her own._

_And then it clicked –her summoner._

_High heels tapped with purpose against the dark tiles of the rookie arena, as Evelynn made her way outside. The team of Silvers hadn’t made it farther than the exit, chuckling amongst themselves for a job well done. As soon as Evelynn’s outline showed, the laughing ceased, turning to starstruck stares and whispers._

_“Is that Evelynn? OhmyGodguys…” the first one said without taking a breath._

_“W-What is Evelynn doing here? Champions don’t come this way.”_

_Evelynn stopped a few measured steps before the five mages. Intimidating them to a stuttering mess wasn’t how she would get what she wanted, so she kept the charm down, appraising them silently through her shades. The first was too eager, the second probably had the IQ of a chicken, the third too mediocre, the forth just…eh. More meal than partner material. Definitely not someone she’d want to be seen on the World stage with._

_“Which one of you was my summoner this game?” came the million-gold question._

_All eyes turned to the fifth, the girl at the edge of their group. Evelynn looked her up and down, her lithe build, the quietness of her mind, her pretty face and curved nose and eyes the color of the sea during a storm. She looked soft, way too innocent to be anything of hers, but at the same time… Evelynn_ liked _what she saw._

_Potential._

_There was nobody in the world who could dislike that face. Their contrast would do wonders for publicity, and most importantly the girl wasn’t nearly happy enough to tempt Evelynn’s darker side into digging her claws in her. There was a weight behind her emotions, a lingering sadness in the depths of her gaze. And Evelynn only went for the happy ones._

_In short, she was perfect for what she needed._

_“Well, darling.” She smirked, stepping closer, looping her arm through the summoner’s, who immediately turned red at the contact. How endearing. “You’re taking a walk with me. The rest of you can_ go _.”_

_“Look, I’m sorry I flashed you into a wall–” the girl began nervously. Evelynn stopped her._

_“I don’t care about that. What’s your name?”_

_“…Avarice.”_

_“Well, Avarice. I’m here because there is something I’ve always wanted. And you will help me get it.”_

_The young beauty eyed her cautiously. “What’s that?”_

_Evelynn answered with her most charming smile. “The_ World _.”_

“That I will help you get what you always wanted.” Avarice smiled at the memory.

“Well, here we are, honey. After endless feeding teammates, toxicity, fails and three hundred IQ plays with my ultimate. The World Cup is two games away.” Evelynn motioned towards the gigantic stage they were just about to step into. “Are you going to give me the world?” It was more a demand than an actual question.

Finally, Avarice shook herself out of her moment of self-doubt. Her emotions cleared, anxiety getting pushed far behind determination. A brilliant smirk crossed her lips, of certainty and _gratitude_ and a million other things all focused on Evelynn, _for_ Evelynn.

“I am.”

…

Their victory had been guaranteed from the first ten minutes of the match. It was no surprise to anybody when Evelynn and Avarice were chosen for the following interview as the most valuable players of the game, followed by Katarina, ever the people’s choice.

Another performance like that and the shiny World Cup would be _hers_.

That was, _if_ their crazy fans did not tear into Avarice first. The girl was entirely too sweet for her own good, slowing down to offer waves and little smiles to the crowd yelling her name, but Evelynn had been a public figure for _years_ and she knew exactly how unpredictable rabid idiots in masses could be. So she reached behind her and grabbed Avarice by her designer robes, tugging her closer and urging her to walk faster towards her car. Meanwhile, the fans cheered at the power move. Win-win situation.

“H-hey, why are you pulling me with you, my driver’s that way.” Avarice spoke. If not for her demon senses, Evelynn would never have heard her over the noise.

“ _I’m_ driving you home tonight.” The diva threw her a look over her shades. Then, she opened the passenger door and threw the girl in.

Once again at the driver’s seat, the demoness stepped on the gas a little too forcefully for effect, leaving everything behind in a cloud of smoke. Avarice immediately reached for the seatbelt.

“Seatbelt, darling? Really?” Evelynn smirked her way.

“Well, your driving is kind of –”

“Careful what you say.”

“…intense.” Avarice finished tactfully. And the little summoner should be thankful to even experience her driving and live to tell the tale, because Evelynn did _not_ allow humans to taint the interior of her precious sports cars, present company excluded.

Because in her eyes, Avarice was less a mere human and more another one of her prided possessions, the stepping gemstone to new heights of influence and fame. The summoner she chose out of all the nobodies in the League and guided into Challenger, a rank most could barely dream of, much less in the span of two years. She was _her_ achievement. And thus, she was allowed in her sanctum.

Evelynn increased the radio’s volume when one of her songs came up. Hummed along. At the ending lyrics, Avarice’s voice cut in. “Don’t you care what fans will say about me being in your car? I know how highly you value your image.”

“You _do_ know that everyone already thinks we’re fucking, right?” was the casual reply. As expected, the wording had the young summoner sinking deeper into her seat, her palm over her eyes. Evelynn resisted the urge to laugh. “I mean have you _read_ the fanfiction about us? I do an array of interesting things to you. Absolutely recommended –it’s _so_ kinky.”

Avarice looked like she was going to spontaneously combust. “Forget I said anything…” she whispered. Blue eyes stared out the window for the rest of the way.

Evelynn was tempted to reach out and touch her hair or say something risqué just to pull her gaze back to her, though opted for not intimidating the very easily intimidated girl further. She had gone to great lengths for the summoner to even be able to meet her gaze during a conversation. It would be counterproductive to throw all her hard work away on a whim.

The Lamborghini came to a stop before a quaint house in the town of Ravenbrook, known for its many summoner families due to its short distance from the Institute of War.

The demoness walked her summoner to her front door, one of the many little rituals she had established as part of her ‘nice’ act. Why she kept it up still was unclear, but Evelynn’s body went through the motions on autopilot by that point. She knew exactly how their interaction would play out from there. Avarice would bow her head and wish her a goodnight and if she was in a good mood she would say something to put a pink hue over the girl’s cheeks.

But Avarice didn’t move. Evelynn sensed the human’s emotions fluctuate, uncertainty and nervousness atop the attraction she always knew the demon could pick up on. She waited.

“So… with the finals only two days away, there is something I wanted to say.” Avarice touched the back of her neck. Then, in a completely uncharacteristic move, she reached forward and took Evelynn’s hand. Blue met gold. “I know you didn’t do it purely out of the kindness of your heart, but you changed my life. Thank you for everything.” Gratitude shone inside her eyes. A soft sort of infatuation and—

_What was that?_

There was a glimpse of something Evelynn didn’t catch, surprised by Avarice lifting her hand to her lips for a little kiss.

“Goodnight.” The summoner then waved cutely and was already gone, while Evelynn stood there drowning in curiosity.

_Is this new? I’ve seen everything human hearts have to offer, how can this be new?_

“ _She_ brought you here again?” the stern voice of Avarice’s mother reached Evelynn’s ears. And if she had any doubts on how to proceed before, she knew then this was a conversation she _had_ to listen to. The demon shade swallowed her whole, slinking to the side of the house to press against a wall.

“Don’t start.” Avarice tiredly retorted, taking off her expensive bracelets and summoner’s robes.

“I worry for you, Avarice. Do you know the rumors about this woman?” the mother asked. Evelynn smirked. Avarice should know they weren’t even rumors to begin with. She must have felt it during matches, how familiar it was for Evelynn to sink her claws into warm flesh. How _pleasurable_.

“Better the devil you know.” Avarice said evenly. _Aw,_ Evelynn thought. _Couldn’t have said it better myself._

“I don’t like her eyes. In all my years I have never seen eyes like that.” The demon narrowed her gaze. _So age does bring some wisdom in humans, after all._ “So… unfeeling.” the woman continued. “But more than that I don’t like the way _you_ look at her.”

“Do tell.”

“In adoration.”

“Ah.” Avarice made a sound between a mirthless chuckle and a nod. “And it doesn’t make sense to you? Mom, look at this house. Do you know how I got the money to buy this house? It’s because I was in her video clip and my fame skyrocketed overnight! And do you know how summoners reach Challenger rank? They don’t! Because in this ruthless business talent is the _least_ of what it takes.”

It was a well-known fact that skill alone could get one up to Platinum rank at best. It took connections in the right places and massive acceptance from the world to rise any higher. It took a Champion willing to vouch for a summoner up until Master –and practically exclusivity to attain the Grandmaster or Challenger mark. One summoner for one champion, who stood together at the pinnacle of coordination, two minds as a single unit.

“It’s only thanks to her that I could afford dad’s medication so he wouldn’t be in pain until he died.” Avarice’s voice dropped an octave, shattering at the same time as a teardrop on the floor. “And when he passed away, and nobody was there, _Evelynn_ was there.”

Evelynn remembered that time. The sheer grief radiating off of her, the rivers of tears she had to dry away herself so they could be presentable for their matches. The comforting gestures hadn’t meant anything for her, but apparently the same could not be said for the human.

“So, yes. Adoration is about right.” Avarice said, turning her back and walking into her room.

 _Oh._ Evelynn thought. _So that’s what it was._

Because in her long, _long_ time of walking the earth searching for sustenance, she never had the patience to make anybody fall in love with her before. Even those who falsely claimed they did, she killed them before any _real_ feelings had a chance to grow.

The demoness had certainly never thought of sinking her lashers into Avarice’s pretty skin before, or wondered what her agony would taste like…

…but she wondered then.

And that was a dangerous line of thinking.

…

The clock read ten minutes to eleven. Evelynn was bored to _death_. She had come back from the studio way earlier than expected and sat on her very expensive couch with a glass of wine in hand yet nothing to do. Which was ironic considering the size of her house and all the things in it, but such was the nature of someone who never truly got to _enjoy_ anything. The mockery of sensation she experienced faded quickly, every day after her feeding.

Other than the exhilarating taste of a living creature’s agony, she knew she liked driving fast cars. A lot. Music, obviously. She liked swimming in her warm pool at night, what little bit of French fries she could taste, how easily her persona and fame intimidated people. Two years ago she added teasing Avarice to that short list.

Picking up her phone, Evelynn debated texting the girl. On one hand, the final match of the world championship was less than twenty-four hours away and the human needed the sleep. On the other hand… she was bored.

 _“Hello darling <3”_ she sent. _“Ready to make a quick public appearance with me?”_

It wasn’t really a yes or no question. One hour later, Evelynn was picking the girl up, both of them dressed to kill as they made their way to the fanciest club in town. A tight black dress hugged every curve of the demoness’ form. Her company was a vision in her silver jacket and strapless navy shirt. Amber eyes raked over her for a moment.

 _Always the light to my shadow, hm?_ Evelynn mused. 

The loud beat of a bass greeted them, neon lights painting patterns across styled hair and expensive clothes. People stared as they walked by, celebrities even among celebrities, but people always did. Evelynn charged a private booth and several drinks on her credit card as the made her way to the upper floor, Avarice in tow.

“How is it that you get to have shots and _I_ get a Daquiri?” the summoner gestured towards her bottle. A soft frown shadowed her brow. 

“Because _I_ can’t get drunk and _you_ get wasted on air.” Evelynn smirked cockily.

“I do _not_!” the girl complained.

The two of them fell into an easy conversation after that, minutes ticking by into quarters, into hours. Evelynn wanted to be selfish and claim the human’s company for more of her sleepless night, but she could recognize the signs of fatigue starting to show in her body language. A slower blink, leaning a bit further into the couch. It was time to go.

She left a generous tip behind before they made their way down the stairs and to the exit –where their road got blocked by a fight just starting out.

Someone stole someone’s girl and someone got furious. Evelynn rolled her eyes at the display of testosterone. She made to grab Avarice’s hand and create a path towards the exit herself –those who recognized her were already starting to make way, after all–

Until.

A loud smash made her halt.

The first guy had lunged at the second, throwing an empty glass that he somehow managed to evade. It flew across the air and straight for Evelynn’s shoulder... if Avarice hadn’t raised her hand to block it, instead.

The impact fragmented shards that dug straight into her fair skin. Pain flared by the demoness’ side, sudden and hot and _intoxicating_.

Blood rose to the surface. Fell in hypnotic drip-drops onto the neon-lit floor.

Evelynn’s eyes froze on the wound, transfixed, for several seconds.

Then they raised to the fighting duo, who stood petrified, staring at her. She could feel the air around her chosen form begin to shift, camouflaged lashers straining and seething to rip apart the pieces of trash who _dared_ to harm what was hers. Someone had scratched one of her cars, once, and Evelynn did not bother with seduction before tearing his skin piece by piece off his bones. This felt very similar.

Taking a breath, the demoness memorized their faces for later and willed the shadows to stay within her body. Wordlessly, she pulled Avarice towards the exit.

The problem was, with the fresh air outside and no sounds and smells to cloud her senses, every part of her was suddenly hyperaware of Avarice’s _pain_. It was all she could see, all she could hear, all she could _taste_.

“Eve?” the girl asked, the sound muted to the diva’s ears. “Evelynn? You’re walking too fast!” she said louder, finally breaking through her haze.

Evelynn tugged at Avarice’s good hand on her sudden stop so powerfully she nearly slammed her into the side of her Lamborghini. All it would take to break her wrist would be a little squeeze, so effortless, and if Evelynn felt this _good_ from a few shards of glass in her skin she could only _imagine_ –

_No, no, don’t imagine._

“Oh, my gods. This hurts like a motherfucker.” Avarice moaned, cradling her bleeding wrist.

Evelynn held her jaw clenched so tight it caused lines on her face. Instinctively, she stepped closer, far closer than she intended, taking hold of the girl’s wrist. “Let me—” she said, her voice hoarser than it had been all evening. Purple-manicured fingers closed around the first shard, _fighting_ against pushing it in further.

The glass was pulled out in one swift move. Avarice's muscles locked up tight. “Ah!” she groaned and the demoness nearly broke right there.

Her lashers _shuddered_ in delight.

Evelynn’s hand shot up to wrap around the girl’s throat, but she controlled the movement enough to take hold of her chin instead, their faces suddenly close enough for her to feel every shallow breath on her lips. And the fact that Avarice froze like a deer in headlights, growing so warm in their proximity, wasn’t helping her case. She could sense her arousal on her skin like the tickle of a hot ocean current. 

“Don’t make a sound.” Evelynn warned. Words she’d never thought would leave her mouth.

She drew back, focused on the task at hand, until there wasn’t any glass left, merely cuts a healing potion could seal overnight. Still, the demoness was acutely aware of the hunger gnawing at her insides each second she passed in Avarice’s presence, to the point she could barely summon the will to loosen her vice-grip on her wrist. Something stirred in the depths of her stomach. She wanted even a taste of her so _badly_.

But then... there wouldn’t be anything left of her.

_She’s the one human in this world I must not harm._

“Um… thank you, for that.” the girl said, bashful, eyes cast sideways.

“Here, this is for you.” Evelynn said fast, pulling her favorite necklace from around her neck and passing it over her summoner’s. It was a stunning little thing, priceless to boot, which had captured her eye from the remains of her very first victim –Evelynn had always worn it on her person since. The tiny golden crystal fell over the summoner’s chest, settled against her navy shirt like it belonged there.

It was to act as her eternal reminder that Avarice was _hers_ , her possession, like her cars and her house and her pool and she could _not_ be harmed. Evelynn never broke the things that belonged to her.

“Why are you giving me your necklace–”

“I need you to get home now.” Evelynn cut her off, taking a step back _._ She debated letting the darkness out so Avarice could see the faintest glimpse past the pretty shell, realize the mortal danger she was attracted to be with. And she would, but the girl nodded and slipped out from between her and the car.

“Don’t even worry about this –it’ll be gone by tomorrow.” The summoner motioned to her wounded hand. “Thank you for the gift. See you at the World stage.” Avarice smiled, bright as the sun breaking over the soft-lapping waves of the sea. Waved. 

As she watched her go, Evelynn allowed the demonic shade to gradually distort her form. She had two humans to settle a score with.

 _It will be all my_ pleasure _._

…

The World stage.

Myriad banners, screens and cameras stood at every angle, countless fans cheering and waving signs. A stage so polished the floodlights made it shine pure white, as though cut from diamond. At the center of it all, hovering in a magical dais above the arena was the pristine world cup, a promise of eternal power and fame given to the most valuable player of the winning team.

Evelynn’s eye had always been attracted to shiny things. She had wanted that cup ever since she first joined the League, ever since she agreed to be bound by its magic and countless rules. A void that once was less than a shade, casting its past away to stand at the very top of the world. She wondered if she would feel anything, actually _feel_ it, when her fingers closed around the magical prize, when she was declared the undefeated queen of Champions.

She was _dying_ to know what that could _be_ like.

Golden eyes had been glued to the cup for so long she lost track of time. Evelynn was broken out of her daydream by the rising anxiety of her team, palpable in the air. By the staff, frantically searching for something. Talking in hushed whispers among themselves that they could stall no longer.

 _And come to think of it, where_ is _Avarice anyway?_ The stylists never took that long.

“Tried calling her –” a manager said.

“Nowhere to be found.” Another replied.

“Has not been seen since yesterday evening–”

Evelynn turned to the rest of her team, the summoners pacing and distraught. Kai’Sa approached her soon after, while Katarina and Darius were caught in a heated conversation. Tensions were rising.

“Hey um… I hate to be the bearer of bad news but.” She started in a guilty, don’t-kill-me voice. “Nobody can get Avarice on the phone. She’s not here and— we need to _go_.”

“What do you mean.” Evelynn kept the growl out of her tone through sheer force of will.

“W-well, for the first game, at least –our backup jungler is pretty good.”

 _What_. “I’m not going to step into the world stage with our _backup_ jungler.” Evelynn retorted, enough venom in her voice to coat the air with it. Kai’sa opened her mouth. Closed it.

“You have to. We can’t wait anymore. They’re already calling us outside.” Katarina Du Couteau cut in. Evelynn turned to her, gold piercing through vivid green. “I know it sucks. Hopefully she’s here by game two.”

 _Avarice would_ never _— in the two years I’ve known her she was_ never _late._

_What’s going on?_

The backup summoner rushed to her side at the lineup. Evelynn barely spared him a glance. She did not smile, not even for effect, on the way to the center of the stage. The ground she walked on seemed less like diamond and more like lead all of a sudden.

The crowd was not happy about the last-minute change, either. There were shouts among the cheers, demands to know why it happened in the first place. Avarice had been the one advertised beside Evelynn in every poster and ad for the past _weeks_.

The enemy team exchanged looks among themselves. The host of the event couldn’t salvage the situation. It was –a disaster.

And that was only the beginning.

Soon after, Avarice’s mother was approached by security at the VIP seats right before the elevated stage. Evelynn watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer bowed his head and showed the woman a bloodied, smashed phone in an evidence bag. She recognized that smartphone all too well. _“It was –all we could find.”_ the demoness read his lips amidst the onslaught of noise.

She froze.

The force of the woman’s shock and worry and sheer emotional _agony_ hit her like a speeding truck. Large, tear-stained eyes turned to Evelynn as the mother pushed the officer aside.

“You!” she yelled, voice hoarse. The crowd went quiet. “She was with you last night and never came back home!” the woman accused, spitting raw hate, her chest heaving as though out of breath. “ _You_ killed my daughter!”

Evelynn opened her mouth. The stage erupted into chaos. Her dedicated fans rising and yelling to defend her, nearly collapsing onto the woman, who was hauled out by security, while still screaming curses at her and trying to claw her way back.

“I—I didn’t.” Evelynn breathed out, not that anybody could hear.

_I could have. I didn’t._

_I sent her away so I wouldn’t._

The host was standing there with the microphone hovering awkwardly in the air. On the opposite team, Tahm Kench gave a deep, boisterous laugh. “You prepared her two _years_ to kill her before the final? I am officially a fan!”

“I _didn’t_!” Evelynn hissed but all hell had already broken loose.

The World cup still hovered silently in the air above, calling like a beacon. The demon’s eyes were drawn to it for one last time. It seemed to be her fate, or the universe’s cruel joke directed at her, that whatever Evelynn desired always stood so close, yet _just_ out of reach.

The peak of her pleasure. The cup and all it promised. All snatched from right within her grasp.

Long nails dug crescents deep into her own skin. Gold eyes were forced away from the shining prize, as Evelynn turned her back to the world. In even strides, she made her way out of the stage, ignoring the calls from her team and shouts from the crowd.

The darkness behind the curtains welcomed her, too familiar by that point. The demon allowed her form to merge with the shadows, disappearing.

For once, it was a good thing she barely had any emotions to speak of.

At the sanctuary of her house, Evelynn slid her key-card into the door –only to stop when her eye caught a sealed box beside it. Carefully, the demoness reached down and picked it up. It was of simple design, made from dark wood, its contents sealed by a thin clasp.

She took it inside. One flick of her nail and the lock was undone—

And her breath caught in her throat.

Within the box lay a gorgeous crystal necklace, though no longer glowing gold like when Evelynn had secured it around Avarice’s neck. Instead, it was tainted by blood that smelled too familiar for comfort.

The demoness held it up, letting the small prism dangle from her fingers. She looked at it, at the note that was laying there underneath it:

_~From the greatest admirer of your work._

Evelynn smashed the box in her grip without batting an eyelash. Splinters fell across her floor, coming down like rain from her open palm. She allowed her body to fall back onto the couch, bringing her free hand over her eyes.

_If only I…_

Avarice’s pretty face came to mind, distorted in agony Evelynn had no part in, nor any power to stop. The thought did not bring her any semblance of pleasure.

_If only I–!_

Afraid and alone under the hand of a madman. Someone inspired by her ‘work’. Someone who would break her long before she died.

_…If only I had taken you home._

A spark of feeling lit in the core of her being, spread out from the empty pit of her chest.

Bitter. Cold.

How ironic, that the most prominent emotion she ever felt was the acrid sting of _regret_. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys and sorry for the long wait for everyone who follows this story! This chapter took a looong time to write. Work has been absolute madness the last month :/ but hey, Christmas break is finally upon us :). Hope you enjoy some K/DA-heavy interactions in this one, because even heavier action is coming in the later chapters!

**[Evelynn]**

Floodlights. Cameras. Thousands of voices screaming out her name. A familiar setting by that point.

Evelynn barely had to think about her next line, the tone of her voice, the telegraphed wink towards the nearest lens zooming in on her face. Her body went through the motions on autopilot –strike a pose here, walk back with Ahri as Kai’sa leapt into the spotlight, stalk around Akali on her rap sequence, trailing a clawed hand around her shoulders for effect.

Despite how many times they stepped into that stage, she could sense Ahri’s elation at the cheers of the crowd. She could taste Kai’sa’s underlying nervousness at the millions of eyes on them. She could hear Akali’s drumming heartbeat, the adrenaline flowing through her blood. And yet she felt—

 _Nothing_.

Fed or not, the sensation she longed for just wasn’t _there_. No matter how many people threw themselves at her feet for a glance, let alone an autograph. No matter how many kills she got out in the Fields of Justice.

In the back of her mind, she was aware that her situation was getting worse.

Emotion, even fleeting, harder to grasp. Further and further away. The last time she could remember herself _feeling_ something –anything— was years ago.

_A stage much like this one._

And just like that, another show was over. “Thank you all for this amazing night!” Ahri exclaimed during her closing speech.

“K/DA out!” Akali said loudly into her own microphone, throwing a smoke bomb at their feet for a dramatic exit. By the time the purple cloud had cleared, the celebrities were already backstage and escorted by security to their following interview.

“Alright, ladies, you know the drill. Don’t give the media too much to read in your answers or too little.” Ahri advised as they walked down the long corridor. “Kai’sa, Akali,” she addressed the younger, less experienced members of the group, “If you find yourselves in a tight spot, look to me or Eve for help.”

“Eve’s ‘ _help’_ is basically shameless flirting so I’ll take my chances with the difficult questions.” Akali raised her hands up.

Kai’sa blushed and looked away, probably at the memory of last time Evelynn had taken over the conversation to assist her, after she’d been asked a particularly tough question about her father –and the endless _‘Kai’lynn’_ madness that followed.

“First of all, you both blush too easily.” Evelynn replied casually behind her mauve shades. “And secondly that’s not even flirting, it’s my default.”

“Then how does _flirting_ look like—”

“Funny you should ask, babe~” The demoness threw her sultriest smile at Kai’sa, who ducked out of its way as though dodging a bullet.

“Nevermind, I don’t need to know!” she waved hurriedly.

At their destination, the pop stars took a breath outside the door to compose themselves. Evelynn really didn’t have any emotions to sort out before stepping in, but she humoured the rest, always going with the flow of what was considered ‘normal’. Layers atop layers of pretend.

The journalists inside greeted them with too-large smiles and eyes glowing with the excitement of the next big scoop, as they all took their seats. Akali next to Evelynn, Kai’sa by Ahri’s side. The conversation began, simple questions and answers, gradually progressing to the matters that could really be juiced by gossip shows and magazines for the next few days.

“So, this next question is for both Evelynn and Akali. Your last match was very interesting.” A woman, the name ‘Petra’ on the tag by her lapel, began. “You could have shut down Sivir multiple times and secured victory but you focused her very little, if at all. Why is that?”

 _Because Kai’sa is terribly into her and we would never hear the end of it,_ was the truth Evelynn was not allowed to reveal. So instead, she opted for another fact; “Well, sometimes we set different goals at the start of the game. And the second we glanced at our opponents Akali and I decided on one thing; ...to tilt the fuck out of Katarina Du Couteau.”

Quiet laughs came from around the room. Kai’sa threw her a thankful look.

“So you’re saying you chose defeat just for the sake of getting on Katarina’s nerves?”

“No, I’m saying that _was_ victory for me.” Evelynn shrugged one shoulder, leaning back into her seat and crossing her legs with all the grace of a panther.

“Fair enough.” the journalist conceded. “But that match would go a long way to securing a spot in the World Championship for your exclusive summoners. Are they okay with this?”

 _Like I give two shits._ Evelynn thought, allowing Ahri to answer for the group. She steered the conversation away from them and to the World tournament in general, discussing power rankings and making predictions.

Everything was going great for a while.

And then it wasn’t.

“Since we are discussing rising stars, Evelynn certainly seems to have an eye for talented junglers. Your new partner is considered one of the top twenty, even though he’s not reached Challenger rank yet.” Petra spoke, facing the demoness. “Very similar playstyle to your old one.”

Evelynn raised her chin. Really _looked_ at the human for the first time that night. “Indeed.” she nodded curtly.

“Speaking of which –there has been endless controversy surrounding the disappearance of summoner Avarice. I was hoping you could talk a little about that?”

 _Don’t say her name._ Amber eyes pierced through the glass of her shades. All K/DA members straightened in their seats. “What is there to talk about?” Evelynn dropped the pretend amusement from her tone, leaving something much darker in its place. The journalist only then seemed to consider opening that particular can of worms may not have been her brightest idea.

“W-well, all signs point towards it being an abduction. Nothing was ever asked in return for her so… do you think she’s still alive?”

_No._

“Who knows.”

Ahri released the breath she had been holding for the past minute, trying to salvage the situation before it could turn disastrous. In the meantime, Evelynn busied herself with picturing unspeakable ways to torture the idiotic journalist for bringing up something that had once ruined her reputation. She could very well choose a different form later that night and make her pay dearly for it, but she had developed a taste for the bubbly, pretty ones over her long years and Petra certainly didn’t tick either box. A waste of her time.

For someone with no emotions, Evelynn had not expected the rest of her evening after the interview to turn out so utterly _shitty_.

Stuck in a loop over a sentence as simple as:

_“… do you think she’s still alive?”_

…

Evelynn’s ash-grey Aston Martin pulled over inside the garage of K/DA’s shared apartment. The purple neon letters at the control panel read two at night.

Revitalized in body from her earlier activities yet still thoroughly unsatisfied in spirit, the demoness slid out of her seat and walked towards the main building, having half a mind to lock her car over her shoulder.

The door opened… to reveal a very pissed-looking Ahri.

Evelynn tried to ignore the aggravation lingering around her like a plume, stepping past it as easily as the fox herself. Her fellow Champion had other plans. “Where the hell have you _been_.” came the demand.

From the plush couches of the living room, the other two group members stopped whatever they had been doing to focus on the situation at hand.

“Around.” the demoness drawled without turning to face her. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“We had _plans_ , Evelynn.”

“Plans change.”

“We showed up without you there. _Again._ ” Ahri’s temper spiked. “I don’t know how many times you have to ditch us –let alone publicly— until someone calls you out on your shit. So let me be the one to say, lately you’ve been _off_.”

“Oh, yes?” Evelynn removed her shades, expression utterly unimpressed.

“Yes. You’ve gone a step beyond your usual intolerable self, into full _hell_ mode.” Ahri said.

If she only knew how true that was. Evelynn had been forced to increase the frequency of her kills to be able to function normally at all, yet each one left her more disappointed than the last. If she could feel, she would be scared of the point where nothing pleased her at all, even remotely, where no amount of energy was enough to sustain her.

She wondered, rather than feared, what would become of her then.

“You even left your summoner waiting when you were supposed to make a public appearance together.”

“Well, you should actually be glad for that one.” Evelynn smirked mirthlessly. “Summoners, outside the League’s magic protecting them, have a tendency to break around me.”

Ahri’s lips parted, but only a breath escaped them. Kai’sa’s aura flared with concern. Worry. Akali’s emotions were much more contained, but similar in nature.

“Shocker? Come on, since we are calling things out, won’t you ask me about how I killed my previous partner?” Evelynn pressed, simply for reaction’s sake.

Her team… oddly enough didn’t take the bait.

“We know you didn’t do it.” Ahri stated, unwavering in her certainty. The demoness couldn’t decide if she should pretend to feel touched or laugh in her face.

“But you know what I am. Don’t you?” Evelynn turned towards the others, who didn’t speak. “I would say I’m sorry for ditching you, but we agreed on ‘no lies within the group’ and I’m actually not _feeling_ sorry. At all.” A pause. “What I _am_ feeling though, is that this form is getting harder and harder to maintain and I barely can stand to waste energy arguing with you.”

“Evelynn –” Ahri began, but she had already turned her back, heels clicking in the corridor leading to her luxurious room.

“Later.” she waved over her shoulder.

In the darkness of her chambers, broken only by a thin ray of moonlight, Evelynn slinked into her bed. Huffed. Sleep was impossible for a being like herself, yet she had found lately it saved a lot of energy just lying there with her eyes closed, in a sort of deep meditative state. The closest to rest a demon could get. She hated it; a boring, massive waste of time, but then again there wasn’t anything truly interesting to do outside anyway. Or anyone.

_Will I one day fade back into the dark like I never existed? Does it really take another Rune War to escape that?_

If so… she needed to make something happen.

She had come from nothingness –and she had no intention of returning to it.

…

Another victory. They were on a roll.

Evelynn stepped out of the teleporting rune to a sea of noise, just in time to hear the critics, usually so stiff and uptight, commend her summoner for an exceptional performance. Derek stood tall and proud at the center of the polished stage, accepting the praise as though it was his birthright. His blood flow hastened when the demoness came to stand next to him, soon joined by the rest of their team. His broad chest puffed out like a fish with pride.

If only she could say the same.

Because for all the recommendations and pretty words people used to describe him, some deserved, others not, Evelynn would always see Derek as her backup option. She had known about his existence years ago when he was in Platinum rank, yet saw more potential within a Silver. He was good, great even, but there were many great summoners out there, if one looked closely enough. Those who truly had the _spark_ though, that which separated pros from legends, could be counted on one hand. 

Avarice had been special. Nobody else since. 

Lost somewhere between her mind and her phone, Evelynn walked ahead of K/DA and their summoners on their way back to the main building of the Institute. She had entirely zoned out of their conversation, until a certain sentense caught her attention.

“If we keep going like this, we could even have a shot at the World Championship!” Ahri’s summoner nudged Derek on the bicep. Evelynn stopped dead in her tracks.

“Absolutely not.” she turned, staring at the duo in a way that made them both freeze.

Ahri stepped in front as if driven by some instinct to protect them, a warning in her tone when she spoke next. “If it happens, it happens. It’s not our goal this year, but we will see.”

“ _We_ won’t see.” Evelynn stated. “ _I_ am not going to step into that stage and have the bigger teams wipe the floor with us, because we decided to have unrealistic expectations.” Someone needed to knock their summoners down a peg before a foolish statement caught by the cameras got them into trouble –and Evelynn was perfect for that role. “These games are _nothing_. Do you know what the Championship is like?”

“Eve has a point.” Akali backed her up. “It’s beyond brutal. So intense it stresses the summoning connection to its limits. Summoners _feel_ their Champions’ pain. We’re not ready for that –you guys aren’t ready for that. Not this year.”

“We have time to work on our coordination. I mean, all signs point to us making it.” Kai’sa’s summoner added.

“Then we’ll throw.” Evelynn shrugged.

“What? We’re doing perfect.” Derek said, disbelieving.

‘Perfect’.

Evelynn had always loved that word. Its meaning, that something could be without a single flaw. It was what she had in mind when she created her favorite human form, what she had been thinking of when she wanted the World Cup added to her collection.

It was what she searched for, when she heard from other Champions that such thing as a ‘perfect summoning’ existed beyond just theory. A single moment where a mage’s power and mind and will synchronized so _completely_ with their Champion they achieved strength beyond what the limit imposed by the League’s magic should allow. Impossible reaction times, ultimates that fell over the enemies like a tidal wave, practically disconnecting them from their partners.

It was what she had caught a faint, fleeting glimpse of, before it was _taken_ from her by some thugs on a dark street.

“ _Perfect_?” Evelynn laughed, cold. “If you look at Lissandra and her summoner then you’ll understand how _stupid_ this sounds for us.” _How you lag me behind, how terribly imprecise—_ “If I even attempt to gank her Helena will counter you so hard you’ll faint.”

“Evelynn!” Ahri got up in her face, grabbing her wrist. The demoness was tempted to smack her off with a lasher across her pretty face. “A _word_.” she said, motioning for the others to go on.

Once they were well out of earshot, the nine-tailed fox shot her with a death glare. A glare aimed upwards, because Evelynn had a good half-head on her in her heels.

“Don’t start.” The demoness huffed.

“Do you feel how troubled they got? Enough is enough.” she said. “Besides, we both know what this is about and at some point it has to stop.”

“I’ll just pretend I know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the unresolved issue you have with the championship.” Evelynn’s eyes narrowed into thin, yellow lines. A warning. “Look, I understand, okay? I haven’t felt it myself but I know from the others how great finding that _one_ summoner can be like. How powerful. _Everyone_ knows you were going to take the cup that year. Lissandra and Helena weren’t a thing yet, nobody in the final could have stopped you.”

“No, they couldn’t.” 

“But that’s _gone_.” Ahri stated. “It’s gone and it’s not coming back. You can’t keep comparing your new summoners to her because you’ll never be satisfied. They will all look like trash.”

“Maybe because they _are_.” The demon’s voice turned darker.

“My point is, it was a terrible shame but she’s dead, Evelynn. She’s gone. She can’t just magically step through that door right now and –”

Suddenly, Evelynn’s head snapped towards the main entrance, where a cloud of confusion and shock was beginning to form. More and more people were crowding the passage, flocking like sheep that obscured both view and way. Cameras were snapping outside, voices yelling.

Ahri’s ears twitched, her brow furrowing as she, too, focused on the scene. “What’s the commotion about?”

_‘I-is that really her?’_

_‘I knew she was still alive!’_ were some of the lines both their superhuman senses caught.

Evelynn started walking, pushing paparazzi and summoners out of the way, until the path was clear—

And her body froze.

Because there, climbing the stairs with all the stony expression and silence of a statue—

Was Avarice.

Blood dripped from the edges of her hair and fingertips, stained her clothes like an abstract painting Evelynn would normally appreciate. Each step she took left crimson imprints on the marble steps, yet she continued as though unbothered by it all. Or, to be more precise, like a zombie risen from the grave, barely registering a thing. There, without truly being _there_.

Evelynn instinctively stepped out of the crowd, ahead of the annoying sheep. Her eyes raked over Avarice’s form, unchanged save for her longer hair and the toning of her shoulders and arms showing through her torn shirt. That was when she realized, the blood on her wasn’t her own.

Merely one step away from her, the demoness reached out as though to assure herself this wasn’t an illusion...

...but Avarice passed her by.

Simply kept walking, eyes so far away, step after weighted step. She didn’t pause, didn’t even _glance_ at her. It was like the demoness had no reflection in her gaze.

Evelynn turned to go after her, but more bodies had blocked her way. Gritting her teeth, it took all her willpower not to cut them in half with her lashers right there. Then again, as soon as she attempted it, the League’s binding magic would most likely make her freeze. She was not allowed to harm anybody within Institute grounds –not for lack of attempts.

Evelynn set her jaw and disappeared into shadow and smoke.

When she emerged far away, in an empty corridor, her eyes fell upon her reflection in the glass walls. It was... the same, yet somehow, oddly different. She was frowning, but without the expression being carefully planned and forced upon the skin of her face. Succulent lips were turned down at the edges, pressed into thin lines. She was buzzing from the inside with... 

Frustration. Anger, even.

Evelynn brought a hand up to her chest, filled with shadows instead of organs and blood, over her nonexistent heart.

A deep chuckle reverberated off the walls.

 _Oh, honey. Things are going to be so_ fun _with you back here._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There we go, a chapter from Avarice's point of view this time. Still building up to the main thing and there may be more questions than answers at this point, but trust me, all will become clear, eventually. Next chapter will feature a reunion long overdue, and a ton more interaction between our main characters starts now. Thank you again for your comments and kudos, they keep me going! Have an amazing New Year everybody! :)

**[Avarice]**

In the darkness of her mind, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, Avarice was aware of shapes moving behind her closed eyelids. Coming and going. Voices talking. She had to actively remind herself that the whispers were not there to plot further suffering for her. The hands that touched her, soft, gentle, were trying to assess the damage done, not cause more.

It still made every inch of her skin crawl.

 _Be still. Don’t react violently. Remember where you are,_ she scolded herself as careful, warm fingers pressed at her forehead.

 _Don’t react violently…_ Yet her stomach was twisting into knots, her muscles already contracting with phantom ache.

And then her eye was forced open and a light was shined into the retina. 

Avarice could not _contain_ herself anymore.

Her body instinctively shot forward, an explosion of dark energy shoving back whoever it was that dared to touch her. There was a crash, the cacophony of metallic pieces –medical tools?— scattering across the floor. That much she registered before she fully came to her senses and retracted the arsenal of bound weapons already forming like a shield in the air around her.

 _You’re not there anymore. Not there. This is the League of Legends. It’s safe here. It’s_ safe _._ She repeated like a mantra inside her mind. When her arms stopped shaking enough to release the death grip she had on the sheets, when her vision cleared enough to see the room as it was rather than a nightmare, Avarice turned her head towards the person she had hurt. Deep down, she knew if it had been a normal human the sheer force of the blast would have instantly killed them.

Thankfully, the figure before her was entirely unharmed, keeping their distance with their hands up to show that they meant good, that there were no weapons to cut at her nor spells to sear her flesh. Those existed only in her mind.

A serene beauty met her gaze. Compassionate, pained amber eyes, framed by a canvas of smooth purple skin. Avarice could not believe it had taken her that long to recognize Soraka. 

“Forgive me for that.” The Starchild spoke softly. “Avarice, it’s me. Nobody will hurt you here.”

Avarice turned her gaze to her hands, keeping her fists pressed to her thighs as if that would keep her from attacking anybody else. Shame burned at the pit of her chest. She had known exactly where she was and she still couldn’t stop herself from lashing at her old friend. A soul so kind Avarice thought she’d taint her just by looking at her after what she became. Immediately, reflexively, one of her hands shot up to the pendant around her neck, assuring herself it was there, though it would be obvious if it wasn’t.

She wouldn’t have any qualms about killing, if it wasn’t.

Soraka took small, careful steps towards her bed. “Your eye… did not react to the light—”

“I can see you.” the ex-summoner said quietly. She wasn’t blind. Not for some time. Rather, the opposite. _I can see more than I ever wish to see._ But it helped, that there was nobody else around while she gathered her bearings, that Soraka’s energy, made out of pure starlight, was the first thing that greeted her after she woke.

“Can I sit next to you?” the Champion asked. Avarice replied with a subtle nod. Something in Soraka’s gaze shifted; the endless patience there giving way to… raw hurt. “Avarice…” just a broken whisper of her name. Nothing else. It was the _way_ she spoke it that made the girl lower her head further. She knew Soraka could see _exactly_ what had been done to her.

What they had _taken_ from her.

“Don’t—” she warned. Clasped at her pendant like a lifeline.

Soraka reached out to touch her, to offer some measure of comfort, but she drew her hands back at her lap. “Look at me. Please.” the Champion said. Avarice complied, something inside her threatening to break at the sheer kindness in those celestial eyes. She was undeserving of it. “You are _not_ what happened to you. I can help you—”

“You can’t!” Avarice snapped, immediately feeling even worse for it. “There are things even _you_ can’t fix.” _It isn’t something that can be reversed. Or healed. Or helped._ “All you can do is let me walk out of here. Sign the papers that I’m fine, I swear I can keep it under control. I need to see my mother.”

“You… can’t.” Soraka hesitated.

“I won’t hurt my own mom, Soraka.” Avarice pressed, brow furrowing.

“No, I mean, you _can’t_.” the Starchild repeated softly. Mortified, Avarice leaned the slightest bit back. “You’ve been gone for three years and –a lot of things have changed. Your mother tried to take her own life months after you were gone.”

... _what_.

“S-she’s not dead, I would have _felt_ it if she was.” Avarice said.

“She is in a coma at Ravenbrook’s hospital and the doctors do not know when she will wake up. I’ve seen her, but I can’t communicate with her spirit. It’s… lost and wondering and I can’t guide her back. She thought you dead. It broke her.”

Avarice tasted something unbearably bitter in the back of her throat. The corners of her eyes stung like a needle had been driven through them. She’d know what that felt like. The summoner brought her palm over her face, unable to see any more and _hear_ any more and—

Her grip on herself was waning.

“I need a moment alone.” She managed to say, unshed tears evident in her voice.

Soraka respected her wish, rising and walking over to the door, yet pausing there for several seconds. “Your team has been visiting every day. …your Champion has been asking about you. What should I tell them?”

Avarice slowly raised her head, eyes narrowed as they stared ahead. “ _Nothing_.”

The door closed with an audible click, leaving the girl alone with her closest companion of the last years; pain.

…

Her Champion.

The woman who had shown up like a vision, anybody’s daydream – _everybody’s_ daydream– and became her reality. Who sponsored her and took her under the spotlight she lived in, who gave her a taste of everything. Of late-night, impossibly-fast car rides, shopping sprees and fame and ...safety. She was at the top of the world with Evelynn. It felt like nobody could touch her while Avarice was in her presence. Nothing could reach them, so high up.

Evelynn, whose hot smirk lit up fires across people’s stomachs, something Avarice had never managed to grow an immunity to. Whose teasing turned her bad days good. Her Champion, who had been there at the good and the bad of her life, to shower her with expensive gifts on her birthdays and wipe away her tears at her father’s funeral. Whose very perfume became synonymous with comfort in her mind. 

It was all a _lie_.

She had always wondered about Evelynn, why she listened to her talk about her life yet never shared anything of hers in return, outside her music and her matches. Where she disappeared when nobody could reach her on the phone. The air of mystery had only added to the appeal, but Avarice wanted to know more about the fascinating woman underneath.

Until she didn’t.

Until her own torturers showed her something that she wished she could _un_ see. A video, of what she didn’t want to believe was really _Evelynn_. It didn’t look like her, it didn’t talk like her. It wasn’t even _human_.

 _“Look closely at this.”_ He _had said. “This is exactly what I’m going to do to you.”_

Avarice slapped her hand over her pounding temple at the memory. She had always held out hope that it was another lie to confuse her, break her. Until the day she managed to free herself and walked up the stairs to the League, the only place she could think to go to.

Until she saw with her own eyes. Or, to be specific, the eyes the Cult had destroyed through spells and reshaped into something they could use. Evelynn’s body did not match the shape of what was within. Her aura was pitch-black, inhumanly so, not a single sentiment in its depths. There were those bladed tendrils attached to her back, just like Avarice had seen in that tape.

And now, she could hear her deep, sexy voice again, and it was both all she had wanted and what she dreaded at the same time. Just outside her room, Soraka was blocking the door from Evelynn, who sounded increasingly aggravated. It finally made sense why the healer had always seemed to dislike her. Why Vayne had always called her a fiend.

“This is a place of _healing_ , Evelynn. You are not welcome here.” Soraka said, colder than Avarice could ever remember her being.

“Yes, healing. Whatever gets you off, I guess –I’m not one to judge. But I do just want to see her. So move. _Aside_.” That bite in her tone could turn lesser women to ash. Not a goddess from the stars themselves, though.

“Seeing you now would stress her and for as long as she is under my care that is not going to happen.”

There was a breath. “Well, this is annoying. I’ll make sure to pay you back in the Fields of Justice.”

“I cannot wait.” Soraka replied evenly at the blatant threat.

“You just give her this for me.” There was the brush of something soft against fabric. Flowers, Avarice guessed. “Is she well, at least?” Evelynn asked.

“She will be.”

“…Alright. Take care of her.” The sound of heels got farther away until it blended with the rest of the noise around the Institute.

Soraka opened the door, huffing. She walked over to the bedside table, leaving the bouquet of blood-red roses there. Avarice did not react to the flowers or the look the Starchild gave her.

“I don’t want to admit this, you know.” She began. “But she has a soft spot for you. You were a good influence on something very dark.”

“I was a fool.”

“You were a rare light in this world, Avarice. Even a demon could see that.”

Avarice finally turned to look at her. Cold, deep blue met warm honey-amber. “I’m not a light anymore.”

_I’m—_

A mad cackling flashed through her mind. Etched in it. _“Look at yourself, at what I made you!”_

_A monster._

…

Avarice had asked Soraka not to allow any visitors in, whether they claimed to be old friends or not, summoners or Champions. The healer had honored her wish for days, so it had come as more than a surprise to the summoner when the door to her room opened… and it wasn’t Soraka that walked in. At least, not first.

Golden armor gleamed under the rays of the sun rushing in by the open windows, a pair of great white wings folded neatly at its back, to occupy as little space as possible. Kayle’s face was shrouded in shadow under the magic of her helmet, but Avarice could feel her eyes on her like an added pull to gravity.

“Apologies to disturb you before you have fully recovered.” Her voice carried an echo under that intimidating helmet, otherworldly and authoritative as the angel herself. “But the High Summoner wishes to speak with you, summoner Avarice.”

A mental groan was all she could manage. Of course, the wise old man knew she’d use her stay at the medic wing to turn down any paper summoning her to his office –so he sent Kayle to get her. Seeing no escape, Avarice slowly rose from the bed and nodded at the armored demigod.

“You come right back here once you’re done.” Soraka gave her ‘the look’. The I-will-be-watching, doctor look.

Avarice shrugged. “Of course.” _Not._ They both knew it was a lie.

Kayle was eerily silent on the way across the long corridors leading to High Summoner Aquillas’ office. Avarice threw her a sideways glance, wondering if she, too, being part goddess, could see all the things not quite right with herself. If she would judge her for them. If she would be attacked as something vile and dangerous to life around her.

She needed to know. So, as easily as blinking, the summoner activated the dark magic lingering within her eyes.

Kayle’s energy, the very essence of her soul, was so bright it nearly blinded her, rather than give her the answer she sought. It was like looking straight at the sun. The mage shut her eyes immediately, focusing them ahead and blinking several times to clear her vision. Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was deep-rooted resentment and ages’ worth of hurt underneath that suffocating light.

“Are you unwell?” the angel asked without stopping.

 _Are you?_ Was the first thing that came to mind. Avarice simply nodded and they moved on.

The High Summoner’s office wasn’t a chamber many people got to visit in their lifetimes. Beyond the door decorated with magical seals and ancient words, it felt like stepping into a different dimension. The space within was much larger than it seemed from the outside, a whole observatory of the stars being the first thing that came to view. Then spectral stairs on either side, leading up to the golden balcony above… where the old man stood, gazing out the massive glass walls.

Jax, the current High Summoner’s main Champion, was ever by his side. Together, their energies so aligned, like planets orbiting each other, they painted a picture of perfect harmony. A complete union, like the one most summoners strived to achieve with their mains.

Avarice stopped to stare for a second. That connection, that trust, it was _beautiful_.

And Aquillas’ aura, pulsing and igniting with endless knowledge and power so perfectly contained and controlled, it was truly awe-inspiring. Her new eyes allowed her to see what people could only feel; the man before her was truly the epitome of all mages.

“Avarice. It is so nice to have you back with us.” His voice carried across the molecules of air, surrounding her, as he descended the stairs at the pace his body allowed. “Thank you for bringing her to me, Kayle.” He smiled, genuine and kind, the corners of his eyes creasing deeper with the motion. “Don’t be afraid, now, step closer.” Aquillas directed that same gaze at her, extending his hand.

Avarice remained rooted in place. Respect and anger towards the man battled within her.

“I remember when I saw this girl at the seasonal ceremony, and I gave her her Challenger badge.” he told Jax, who nodded under his mask. “I approved of her rank because I could see true greatness in her. As I’m sure her Champion did when she chose her.” His blue eyes turned to her as he spoke, gaging her reaction. Avarice tried not to show her discomfort at the memory. “Tell me, Avarice. What has _happened_ to you?”

Her fingers twitched at her sides. A flood of memories came rushing in. _Stop, stop, stop. Stop!_

“Kayle, Jax, could you please leave us for a moment?” he requested. The Champions exchanged a look, a whole conversation about his protection within it, before Jax took the first step. Kayle seemed far more hesitant, but it was the High Summoner’s wish and she eventually complied. The door closed, leaving them alone. “I see the rage you are fighting to supress deep within you. Talk to me, Avarice. You know I’m here for you. For all of you.”

 _Talk about what, exactly?_ Her hands balled into fists. _The lies you’ve just been reinforcing all this time? The monsters that you allow to come near us in forms indistinguishable? Is_ that _how you’re here for me and all these new summoners out there?_ Avarice wanted to shout. Instead, she forced neutrality over her features. “I don’t know what it is you summoned me to discuss.”

“Do you think we abandoned you, Avarice?” he saw through the cracks of her facade.

“I think the League, in all its infinite resources, could have done more.” The admission felt a lot like tiny thorns stuck in the back of her throat. “But that’s not important right now.”

“What is?”

“You need to protect your summoners better for what’s coming. Because if you think it ended with me you’re wrong. I was only the beginning. There are dark days on the horizon, and they won’t be long to come.” she warned. She did her part, she told herself, and whatever path the League chose from that point on was not her problem.

“I had that feeling for a while now. Ryze told me the exact same thing this morning. But if there is something more specific that you know, I need you to share it with me now.”

“I’ve shared all I can. All the League can do in this situation is offer protection.” _As for punishment… that will be someone else’s job._ Avarice’s thoughts darkened. She had learned long ago she could not count on the League to help fight her battles. Much less her war. “I need my Challenger rank restored.” she added after a pause. She needed the access and resources the rank allowed.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.” The High Summoner shut her down immediately.

“Are you serious?” she asked, dumbfounded. “I _earned_ it. It’s not because I was on vacation the last three years that I dropped to Unranked. The least you can do is not make me go through all that shit again.”

“I do not doubt you deserve it. But I fear if I allow your Challenger privileges back I would only be leading you to ruin, while this hate still swells in your heart.” He explained, eyes soft and pleading for her to understand. “Starting over could be good for you. Meeting new summoners and Champions. Or even reuniting with your old ones.”

Avarice’s upper lip curled. She took an unnecessary breath to keep herself still. Perhaps it was too much to hope for that things would go her way. Luck hadn’t exactly been on her side for a long time. _This is –frustrating._

“Avarice. I know you have suffered. I cannot imagine how much.” _You don’t understand._ She thought. _You can’t understand._ “But let the past lie. Let the wounds heal. The bright, beautiful soul I once saw fit to welcome into Challenger is still in you. That girl is still there.”

“You’re wrong.” Avarice countered, malice in her voice. _She was tortured until her lungs went numb. Beaten. Broken. Cursed. Killed._ “She’s _gone_.”

_And soon, so will all the murderers responsible._

“Do not go down this dark path!” High Summoner Aquillas’ voice followed her on her way out.

…

In the safety of her old home, haunted by ghosts of a family that could never be again, Avarice stood before the small safe lodged into the wall in the library. The open titanium plate awaited for the treasure to be placed in its depths. Yet her body was frozen, unable to summon the will to follow through with her plan.

Her shaking fingers reached up to her neck, grasping at the necklace resting over her breastbone. It glowed softly in her fist, beating like the heart that had long ago stilled inside her body.

Avarice stood at the crossroads. On one side, a younger, innocent-looking version of herself called, beckoning her to let go, assuring her, just like the High Summoner, that things could go back to how they were. She could have her partner, the love of the entire world. Her mother would one day awaken to the sight of her success.

Pleaded, that with enough time, she would feel _whole_ again.

On the other side, however… there was a savage beast, blood dripping from its fangs and torn bodies at its feet. If she looked closer, the monster’s shape started to change… becoming her very reflection. It called for vengeance, for destruction. It called for blood as the means to heal themselves. It whispered that any other way would be playing at something she wasn’t, a lie, just more pretend.

They could never be whole again…

…but they could make sure their enemies fractured further than them.

Avarice blinked once. Twice. Slowly, she removed the silver chain from around her neck. The pendant lost its glow once it was left within the safe. So did the rest of her.

The second her skin stopped making contact with the blue teardrop-like jewel, all feeling left her being. She was no longer tormented by thoughts of right and wrong, nor haunted by the grief of possibly losing another parent. The memories stopped flooding her mind and testing her control. The voice of the High Summoner was silenced in her head.

A deadly smirk graced her lips.

She knew just where to begin.

…

In the outskirts of Zaun, Avarice knew that night the arcane shifts would be at their peak. She knew the Cult would not miss a chance to offer more sacrifices to their so-called ‘god’. To their monster.

She was there while they made their preparation, lurking in the shadows of the nearby woods. She watched as the newly initiated goons wove patterns onto the earth and grass with swords and blood. Observed, as blindfolded people were dragged in, badly bruised, beaten half to death, and tied onto the pillars forming a broken circle around the cursed markings.

The second they began their awful chant, Avarice made her move. Blue rune-like marks broke out across her skin, framing her ribs, lines weaving down her arms and up her neck, until they reached her eyes in jagged scars. Her eyes, which had turned black like a demon’s, with iridescent blue irises that foretold death. 

Like a hungry wolf drawn to the scent of blood, she leapt towards the cultists.

Howls followed. A bloodbath.

Spectral swords cut through flesh like warm butter, ragged chains were drawn across necks, severing them in the blink of an eye. The blindfolded victims had created a chorus of crying out for help –for a second, Avarice paused her merciless assault to see herself in each of them.

_A hot knife was drawn across her abdomen. Up her arms. Avarice cried out until her lungs went cold, until the tears that ran down her eyes burned like a brand. There was so much blood –too much blood. And that horrid, endless chanting that rang in the depths of her mind, invading it in the worst ways…_

_She had thought then she would die. A part of her desperately wished to._

_Yet a part of her clawed for its right to live._

_“Look at this one. Look at her will to survive.” the Leader had spoken, his voice distorted behind his demonic mask. “Remarkable. She may just be the one we’re looking for.”_

_“And if she isn’t?” another spoke. “We won’t get another chance for hundreds of years. The Blood Moon eclipse is almost upon us.”_

_“No, I believe in her.” he said, tracing his gloved fingers across her chin. “Prepare her eyes.”_

_And if Avarice had thought what they had been doing to her before was torture, then there was no word that could accurately describe her agony when they fell over her like locusts, ‘preparing’ her eyes for that unspeakable ritual._

_She screamed for all the gods she knew, but none of them listened in that cold, humid cave._

_Then she called for something else._

_“Evelynn!_ Evelynn _help me!”_

Avarice undid the bonds of the captives there with a flick of her wrist. “Do not remove your blindfolds until you’ve ran as far from here as you can.” she spoke, her voice rumbling like a volcano about to explode. Except cold, like ice. They didn’t have to be told twice before they all started running down the hill for their lives. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.” she whispered, once they were far away.

“Y-you!” the last remaining cultist was writhing like a worm on the ground, trying to crawl backwards using his forearms, one of his legs already rendered useless. “W-what _are_ you?”

Avarice’s gaze fell on him. Slow, even steps led her way to him. “I’m what you made me.”

“D-demon! Stay away from me!” he shouted.

“Demon?” Avarice smirked, coming to stand above the man, sharply pressing her heel into the slash at his thigh. A deep cry graced the night. “Close enough.” she shrugged. Soulless, just like one. Unable to feel a thing. “Now, you are going to tell me everything about the day and time of your next ritual. And I promise to kill you quickly.”

“Go to hell!” he shouted in a burst of false bravado.

Avarice grinned. She flexed the magic-made barbed chain between her fists. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

There was no stop and no remorse in the time that followed.

There were only screams.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, things are starting to heat up in more ways than one between our main characters. Evelynn (you can tell this by her in-game lines too) is growing desperate to feel. She lost more than she let on when she lost Avarice and the 'echoes of her emotions' due to their high affinity as a duo. And there is nothing someone like her hates more than losing. So what you see from her at this point is less affection and more possession and obsession. 
> 
> Once again, I appreciate every single one of you sending me messages and commenting down below. Love you all, see you next chapter!

**[Evelynn]**

The sun was a setting, orange fire in the sky over the Institute of War. It bathed Evelynn and her team in its glow, a distant warmth she could very faintly feel if she focused enough on her human skin. Smokey eyelids shut behind the mauve shades she had established as a worldwide trend, shutting out most of the surrounding noise.

Until it suddenly got too loud to ignore.

Evelynn opened her eyes, wondering if she had zoned out completely while they got to the Master Arena for their next match. Upon a closer look, however, she realized it wasn’t anything quite so glamorous that her gaze settled upon. But then, it made no sense why so many people were waiting in line for a chance to squeeze into the modest rookie stadium.

“Wow, what’s up with this?” Akali asked, cocking her chin towards the queue. “I’ve _never_ seen that stage filled.”

“Well, I’m not surprised.” Sona’s summoner said, drawing the team’s attention. “Today are the placement games of ex-Challenger Avarice. She had a lot of fans who are very eager to see her perform again.”

Avarice. The name struck a nerve at Evelynn’s temple she didn’t know she had. The demoness had tried time and again to come into contact with her, but Soraka the starbitch had been adamant about sealing her out. That didn’t explain why the human never sought her out after she was discharged from the Med-wing. It was _frustrating_ , to have to make time in her busy schedule to look for the girl only to find out that she had gone off to gods-only-knew-where, in the middle of the night. That she hadn’t even bothered getting a cellphone.

To top it all off, to have her debut matches without Evelynn, who _made_ her into what she was – _the nerve._

“You can go on ahead. I won’t be long.” The demoness said coolly, motioning towards the arena. Derek visibly tensed by her side. He knew better than to speak up.

Ahri pointedly rolled her eyes. “Akali, you go with her.”

“Why me?!” the ninja asked, her eyebrows shooting up as her hands came pointing at her chest.

“Because she’s got dirt on Kai’sa and I refuse to leave Sona alone with her.” the fox replied, her deadpan expression a stark juxtaposition to her usual airy, flirty image. “Be there at eight sharp. You are allowed to use deadly force if necessary.”

Evelynn let out a haughty laugh. Akali huffed, glaring at her profile. “Fine…”

The two of them broke off from the group, going the long way around to the Champions’ entrance. The VIP space wasn’t much, nothing like the grand lounge of the bigger, flashier arenas, but it would have to do. Jarvan and Shyvana were already there, along with a few Masters Evelynn recognized as Avarice’s old friends.

“Isn’t it unfair that a Challenger will go up against summoners who are about Gold rank at best?” Akali wondered out loud. “And in the jungle to boot, which can make or break the whole game.”

“Technically she’s Unranked now, so.” Evelynn shrugged. “But, knowing Avarice, she already feels bad for it and will go stupidly easy on them.”

It was that ‘knowing Avarice’ part that the demoness started to rethink after that series of matches. 

…

She did _not_ go easy on them.

At all.

If anything, it was a stomp from start to finish, every single time for ten games in a row. They all ended with the opposite team surrendering at fifteen minutes, unable to withstand the deadly Warwick in the jungle that leapt out of the shadows to kill them over and over again.

Akali whistled. “She’s savage.”

Savage wasn’t the word Evelynn would ever think to associate with Avarice. Yet the girl who once exuded light and good intentions was standing there with that grave expression, after wrecking other summoners completely, driving them out of mana and willpower to continue.

Ignoring everything else, the crowd cheering for her and her opponents crying that it wasn’t fair, she turned towards the critics, who straightened in their seats as Warwick came to stand next to her. Evelynn gripped the railing tighter. Something about that image was so terribly _wrong_.

She was given the rank of Gold-one, the highest placement one could get when starting from Unranked. The crowd cheered when the host approached for the following interview.

“Avarice, what a performance!” he began excitedly. “Relentless and powerful like a wolf! Or dare I say a hellhound!” The audience hyped up at the analogy.

“Eve, we’re late. We have to go.” Akali said. Evelynn’s gaze darted from the digital clock on the wall to the stage. 

“Avarice, will we be seeing more of you two together?” the man extended the mic towards her.

“Of course. Warwick will be my main from now on. You’ll be seeing us a lot. I’m in a hurry to Challenger.” she replied, even and cool. An array of thrilled ‘oh’s came from the crowd. Evelynn wasn’t nearly as exhilarated.

“And Warwick, what do you have to say about your new summoner?”

The Wrath of Zaun gave a deep, rumbling chuckle that reverberated through the whole arena. “I can’t tell which one of us is the hungrier wolf.” he said.

Evelynn crossed the exit to an endless chant of ‘Fenrir’ echoing in her ears.

…

Subtlety was lost on Avarice, it seemed.

Which was fine with Evelynn, because she always did prefer a more hands _on_ approach. If her dear Fenrir was so insistent on making sure their paths did not accidently cross, the demoness only had to make herself unavoidable.

The Institute was ginormous, with multiple paths leading to the same structures. Searching around for one person was like trying to find a needle in a haystack… but Avarice always had a habit of taking a certain scenic route back to the dorms. And habits were hard to break.

That evening, with the gentle breeze guiding the autumn leaves in graceful swirls up in the air, the last light dispersing across the atmosphere, Evelynn waited by the side road. As expected, ears and glowing eyes showed first, the outline of something massive and dangerous… and then something beautiful in its shadow. Avarice’s steps did not slow nor hasten at the sight of her. Warwick dropped into a threatening crouch, the poison in his blood rushing faster, but his summoner – _her_ summoner– showed no change in her breathing pattern.

“You’re a tough one to find.” Evelynn shifted her weight from one leg to the other, scanning Avarice from head to toe. From the black of her clothes, to the pretty blue pendant around her neck, perfectly matching her eyes, to her hair, swept over one shoulder in rich brown waves and navy highlights.

Avarice had always disliked wearing black. Every time Evelynn had playfully drawn her hair to one side, saying it was sexier that way, she had always hurried to fling it over her back. Her breathing had always been a little faster around the demoness. _None_ of those were accurate anymore. It was like…

Like they turned her inside out.

“Go along, now, doggy.” Evelynn made a shooing motion towards Warwick, who growled in response. “We got some catching up to do.”

The wolf took a menacing step forward, claws flexing –but Avarice’s hand stopped him. “It’s alright, Warwick.” Lips curled back over fangs. The Wrath of Zaun fixed Evelynn with a withering glare before he continued down the road, soon lost in the ever-darkening background.

“Evelynn.” Avarice said calmly, her voice like lukewarm water. “I see you still get on everyone’s bad side.” A faint smirk crossed her lips. The next moment gone, like a shooting star.

“I have an image to maintain.” The demoness shrugged one shoulder leisurely. Then she took a step forward, closer to Avarice, reaching out to hook a finger at the tie of her robes. Wordlessly, she pulled her along to the small lake nearby, illuminated by soft lanterns all around.

It was a place they used to go to before or after their matches, sometimes talking and sometimes not, usually with coffee cups in hand. Avarice took her old spot at the lone rock there, while Evelynn leaned against the bark of the cherry blossom tree behind her. Both cast their gazes over the still surface of the lake. It was unchanged, as if not a day had gone by. But it had been three years.

Avarice was the first to break the silence. “I heard your new songs with K/DA. They’re something else.” was said with a small smile. It almost made her look like her old self. Almost. “I thought you couldn’t stand Ahri.”

“I _can’t_.” Evelynn rolled her eyes, which prompted a tiny huff of air that may have once been a chuckle. The demoness tried to get a read on Avarice’s emotions, but a strange black mist woven through her aura shielded them from view. _Peculiar. I’ve never seen this before. What did they do to you?_

“Thank you for the flowers, by the way.” the summoner spoke quietly.

“No problem.” Evelynn waved her hand. “So,” she fixed Avarice with a powerful gaze. “Will you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Avarice uncharacteristically looked her straight in the eye. “Not you, specifically.” she replied with that same dead-even tone that was so unlike her. “It’s everything that has to do with my past. It just includes you.”

Evelynn wondered how she would feel about that, if she could feel at all. In that moment, though, enough time had passed from her last feeding to not hold a single sentiment. Always that same, echoing void. “Wow, I can’t even tell if you’re lying. Your aura feels so different.” Like darkness, rather than the light it used to be. Like her spirit wasn’t even truly _there_.

“A lot of things are.”

“And some aren’t.” Evelynn countered sharply. “Tell me who did this.”

A sharp twinge of pain was caught by the demon’s senses. Avarice’s jaw locked. “It doesn’t matter.”

The Agony’s Embrace took a quick step forward, closing some of the distance between them. She towered over Avarice in her heels, in her presence. “ _Tell_ me.” she demanded.

Avarice immediately stood, one hand around her pendant like a shield, muscles coiled as though prepared to push past Evelynn if she had to. “I’m going, Evelynn.”

 _Since when did you get so bold with me?_ It sparked a predatory instinct in the demoness she tried hard to supress. Her hand closed around Avarice’s elbow just as she made to leave. The girl’s skin felt cold under her robes. “Do you blame me for what happened?”

“No.”

“But you _are_ angry at me?” This close, it was much easier to taste her most prominent feelings. She would know if the summoner lied.

“…Yes.”

Satisfied, for the time being, Evelynn loosened her hold. She reached into her bag to retrieve a small card that she held up with two fingers between them. A VIP invitation to her next show. Avarice’s eyes dropped to it, twin, dark oceans, both the same and different than what Evelynn so vividly remembered. The summoner took it wordlessly.

“Come see me on Friday.”

There was no reply, but Evelynn knew she would be there.

Avarice would come to her, like she always did. It was only a matter of time.

…

Evelynn had never quite believed in bad luck.

Murphey’s law, nor that endless string of misfortune where it seemed the universe itself was set on tripping a person at every corner. She had always gotten what she wanted. She never had to consider such trivial things.

Except for the last few years.

 _Except_.

She had no other explanation for what was happening to her in that moment.

Thursday evening, at the fundraising event held at the Grand Arena, K/DA had been selected as a fan-favorite team, to face off against a group of opponents chosen by the High Summoner himself. The whole event would count as a ranked match, to force both sides to give it their all. Naturally, the whole world was going wild with guesses and betting, the arena a cacophony of noise. The Institute had far surpassed the gold it had set out to raise for orphaned children around the world –Evelynn rolled her eyes– and the game hadn’t even started yet.

The term ‘random group of opponents’ had been vague to begin with. Evelynn had wished that didn’t mean she would have to face off against one of the top teams– gods forbid she was forced to gank Lissandra.

It had not once crossed her mind, however, that it _could_ mean ‘summoners selected at random, across all divisions’.

Even so, she hadn’t worried when the old mage had walked up to the stage and called the first two names, both Challengers. A well-known duo in the bottom lane, their mains being Zyra and Jhin. Zed’s summoner was picked next, from the Grandmaster rank. Akali’s gaze darkened at the sight of him. Renekton and his partner were chosen for the top lane. They hadn’t dropped below Master, so Evelynn really wasn’t concerned that—

“Fenrir, from Platinum-Five.” High Summoner Aquillas called into the microphone. The stage went quiet.

The demoness locked eyes with him across the stage.

And then, like a gunshot signalling the start of a race… all _hell_ broke loose from the cheers. The cries seemed to reach out of the arena’s dome and to the heavens –and Evelynn’s veins were filling with cold murder.

 _You decrepit old fool! How_ dare _you!_

Avarice didn’t seem too pleased about it either as she climbed up onto the stage, Warwick ever at her side, jaws spasming, excited at the prospect of tasting blood. A small huff left the girl’s parted lips. Then her eyes raised straight ahead, meeting Evelynn’s head-on, without hesitation.

“These are your opponents. They will have ten minutes in the backstage to discuss their plans for the match. I wish you all a great game, for the good of the world!” Aquillas nodded at the crowd, stepping back to accept Jax’s help and walk over to his seat, by the side of the massive stage.

“Cover for me, I’ll be gone for a while.” Evelynn very subtly whispered to Kai’sa.

“Hey, don’t do anything _stupid_ —!” Ahri managed to grit out, all while smiling for the cameras. Alas, the demoness was already gone.

Evelynn blended with the shadows behind the stage, following a distinct scent to an atelier tucked a few ways from the others. Avarice still used the same perfume. _How endearing_. It made her job that much easier for her.

The second the door opened, Evelynn was there. One shoulder against the frame, completely blocking the way in a fashion that didn’t seem at all threatening to the common eye. Flirty, certainly. Suggestive, maybe. If anyone saw, they couldn’t really report her for harassment. At least not the violent kind. And _who_ in their right mind would say ‘no’ to a bit of extra attention from her?

Avarice’s deep blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t do this right now, Eve.”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Evelynn gave her most charming smile, the one that made the strategic dimples in her chosen form show. “K/DA _cannot_ be seen losing to a bunch of randomly strung-together individuals, no matter who they are.”

“Then try not to lose.” was said flatly.

Evelynn let out a small sigh. She would offer money to get her way, but she had a feeling Avarice would not care much for it. So, she decided to use a bait far more enticing for her prey. Slowly, tactfully, she leaned in, splaying her fingers across the summoner’s firm stomach. “Don’t go against me, darling.” she cooed, drawing the very tips of her golden claws down, over shallow contours of lean muscle…

Avarice’s fingers closed around her wrist. Cold, like the rest of her. “It’s ranked. I can’t throw.” Her body was rod-still against Evelynn’s fingers. Nothing in her expression betrayed arousal. A few years back, the same touch would have her a dripping-wet pool on the floor. So ready to comply, to please her.

Evelynn’s lashers strained not to join in on their contact. Her mind was filling with so many ideas to get a reaction…

Drawing closer still, one claw tapped gently over the girl’s stomach. Evelynn guided moist, ruby lips close to her ear, close enough to feel, to _want_ , but not to touch. Indulgence was dangerous.

 _Strange_ , she thought. She could not hear Avarice’s heartbeat, even pressed against her as she was. Yet she could, finally, taste the kindled embers of her _desire_.

Distant, but there, like a caress long forgotten but never erased.

That was the thing with attraction; it never quite died, not even if one would like it to. It merely slumbered... And one passionate touch was all it took to reawaken it.

“ _Don’t_ make me hurt you.” Evelynn’s voice dropped low, in a way that was more sex than threat. Each syllable made her lips brush Avarice’s smooth skin.

“Time up! Everybody line up!” somebody from the staff yelled at the corridor.

Broken out of the enthrallment, the summoner’s aura and gaze hardened like fast-setting concrete. She gave Evelynn one last, unreadable look, before pushing past her and towards her team.

The demoness’ blunt fang sank into her lip hard enough to draw blood, if she had any to speak of. _Nobody_ denied her without consequences.

Then a feral smirk twisted Evelynn’s mouth. If her sweet little Avarice came back from her three-year absence with a penchant for rough play…

_I may allow a taste of what I denied myself for so long._

…

The match started fairly passive, both sides testing the waters without too many bold moves. A little push there, a little give elsewhere, testing reaction times. Evelynn had her attention set on the map for a potential invade, but then again that had never been Avarice’s style.

Hundred-gold heels dug into the soft soil by the river, a sensation so uncomfortable even _she_ could feel irritated by it. The price she paid for style. With inhuman grace, however, she managed to get to the crab and beat the living lights out of it, until it was bleeding out at about one quarter of its life.

Sharp, crooked claws came down upon her before she could hit it again. The demoness rolled over its hardened shell just in time to avoid them, dropping to a low crouch that mirrored her enemy on the other side. Jaws snapped at her in warning. Evelynn’s lashers flexed in response.

 _‘We should fall back.’_ Derek’s voice echoed in her mind.

 _‘We are_ not _falling back, otherwise I wasted my time with this thing.’_

The wolf slashed at the crab once, and it was just about ready to be smited down…

They both dashed for it. Derek and Avarice used their spells at the same time, twin thunderbolts coming down onto the creature. Their timing was precise. Evelynn _knew_ Derek didn’t make a mistake…

But Warwick got the kill.

She was forced to run back into her own jungle, nerves flaring out of her head.

_‘How? My timing was perfect.’_

_‘Recall.’_ Evelynn thought back sharply. She kept the rest of her musings to herself. Because she knew, in the case of a spell casted at the same _exact_ time, the League’s magic bended towards the side of the stronger caster. And for all his confidence and higher rank…

Derek _couldn’t_ match her power.

 _This will just keep happening._ She locked her jaw as she got her new items from the base. _And when, sooner or later, that smite turns to us and our summoners feel the force of it… they’ll crumble like a tower of cards._

…

It went on and on. For every gank there was a reply elsewhere on the map, for every dragon there was a heavy price to pay for the rest of her team. Kills were scored across the board, and it did look like they were ahead, but Evelynn knew tables could turn in a snap. They weren’t at any sort of winning position if they were stuck outside the enemy base, feeding them kills after failed attempts to break it open.

And she _didn’t_ want to go for Baron knowing the difference between the junglers, but they didn’t have many options. Her team gathered at the monster in the pit, taking it down quickly enough… until Zed used a shadow to get to Kai’sa and slice her throat, killing her instantly. The rest of the enemy team leapt into the frey, but Evelynn kept her eyes open for–

A mad howl.

She had expected a flash into the fight… but Warwick straight-up leapt with his ultimate onto Akali. Derek pulled at the demoness to withdraw, save herself, but Evelynn knew a lost cause when she saw one and forced her attacks back onto the Baron—

And that brief split in decision-making was all it took.

_She stole it._

Evelynn wasn’t sure how she died, nor did she care to know. “Don’t worry. We aced them.” Ahri said, back at their fountain, behind their glowing Nexus.

But the demoness’ mind was stuck on: _she stole it._

“Ahri.” Akali said, dead-serious. “We can’t win like this.”

“We’re fine.” the fox brushed it off.

“ _We_ are fine, but our summoners are not.” Kai’sa said. Sona nodded her head, a pained expression painted onto her pretty face. “They’re exhausted. Their mental shields are crumbling. They’re starting to feel the damage done to _us_.”

“She’s too fierce and too strong. That ultimate _wrecked_ my summoner. It’s a wonder he didn’t disconnect me, but he’s in some serious pain right now for wounds he doesn’t have.” Akali shook her head. “I’m not going to let him suffer like this– he’s not ready for a match that feels like a championship.”

It would be a lie to say Derek was faring any better. His mana reserves were running dangerously low. One fight at best, that was all he had left in him. After that, he may as well be a dead weight Evelynn would be dragging around until the end of the game.

“A lot of things are on the line here.” Ahri stated coldly.

“We’ll win.” Evelynn spoke up. All eyes turned to her. “I just need one thing from you… On the next fight, forget about the rest of their team. Focus on Warwick.” She held up two fingers. “The chemical pumps on his back, that connect to his nervous system. His right arm must be severed completely. And I _can_ guarantee victory.”

Kai’sa’s forehead creased with lines. Sona looked away altogether, a blatant refusal. “That’s not going for the kill, Evelynn—”

“No it’s not.” she shook her head, her eyes all fire and hellish intention. “It is going for his summoner.” Who _I have unfinished business with._ She kept to herself.

And how long could Avarice withstand his pain? Emotional, physical. A beast that would be writhing to disconnect her, whose tortured memories would bleed into her own mind.

_How long before you crack for me?_

On the forty minute mark, the Elder Dragon came alive. It was the battlefield where both teams would take their final stand. Whoever won that fight won everything.

The dragon was first attacked by their team, but only as bait. As soon as the enemies showed, Evelynn was dropping back into the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Zed once again went for Kai’sa, but Akali was there to stop him.

“You can’t win against me, Akali, you know this.” He laughed, the sound heavily distorted under his mask. “That’s what Shen must have taught you best– _defeat_ from me.”

Akali pushed him back with a roar, just as Warwick leapt out of the nearby bushes straight for her neck—

But Sona used her ultimate to stun him in place. She did not follow through with the attack, too kind to contribute to what Evelynn planned to do. She switched back to protecting Akali, just as Kai’sa dove into the enemy backlines for Jhin.

Furious by the earlier taunt and determined not to lose to Zed, Akali went for Warwick, twirling behind him and slashing at the alchemical pumps there. He twisted just in time to throw her off balance, grabbing her out of the air like an annoying mosquito soon to be squashed. A crunch, and then nothing –he had snapped her neck.

Which meant, Evelynn was the only one who could finish the job. While Ahri landed a charm onto Zed, she saw the opening she needed. The Agony’s Embrace flashed onto Warwick, seemingly pulling the shadows all around with her. His first large sweep missed. The demon slid at his back… and tore the device embedded in his skin right off.

A deafening howl filled the air.

Her stomach tingled with delight.

The only part she hadn’t accounted for was how firm Avarice’s shields would be in the face of pain. It didn’t hold her back nearly long enough, as the beast snapped around and caught her in his right claws. Evelynn saw them cut through her makeshift flesh like butter, but she had the advantage of not truly _feeling_ the agony. Therefore, so did her summoner.

Ahri killed Zed just in time to use her last dash onto the Wrath of Zaun.

A clawed hand fell into the shallow river with a splash.

“I told you.” Evelynn said, her lips pulling into a sharp grin. Darkness was called out from inside her. It twisted her voice, made her eyes glow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With a sharp slash, Evelynn cut deep lines into the wolf’s eyes, phasing far back.

She didn’t go for the kill.

The beast fell onto his knees, thrashing madly about.

Evelynn waited. And waited.

 _“A summoner has disconnected!”_ echoed across the Fields. Ahri showed mercy, putting him out of his misery the next second.

In the siege that followed, Warwick never came to assist his team, standing in the fountain motionless, barely breathing, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

They won.

…

A victory was a victory, no matter how brutal.

It drove the point across that K/DA was not messing around, when they didn’t want to be. It was useful for publicity. Her team would come to appreciate the benefits of it, in time. Evelynn was aware right then nobody was too pleased about that particular turn of events, but they put on their best fake smiles for the cameras, on stage.

It was a good thing her smiles were always fake, so she didn’t truly stray from the norm.

On the opposite team’s side, Avarice was faring no better than Warwick had been, in-game. She was hunched over, her palms pressed over her eyes and shoulders shaking like leaves in the wind. She seemed as though she had suffered physical wounds.

Evelynn was pulled in by her agony like moths were drawn to flames. Only this one was a wildfire, burning _everything_ , and Avarice really _couldn’t_ shake it off and it was beyond the point of making sense.

The demoness stared, transfixed in equal parts arousal and something else, which yet lacked a name.

Sona made to go to the girl, but Ahri gently held her back.

It wasn’t supposed to last that long. As soon as the match was over, it normally subsided. Even in the championship, where the hurt was equally severe but from the first few minutes, it would have ended by that point.

…unless, a mental trigger was hit.

Unless all that phantom pain was suddenly very _real_.

Evelynn really didn’t think she would get to feel it again, that sweet, unfamiliar, deep-rooted taste of sensation, that pure _want_ , but she did. And suddenly, she couldn’t get _enough_.

Medics rushed to the stage to check on Avarice, but Warwick roared menacingly at them, keeping them back. He wrapped his claws around the summoner and helped her up himself, his bulk getting in the way of Evelynn’s vision. Whatever he said to her seemed to help, because she could at least function normally after it, albeit dazed, descending the stairs of the stage along with her team.

But then.

“Yeah, you better leave this stage, _Platinum_.” Derek said into his microphone. Evelynn’s gaze snapped to him. Riding the high of his victory, however, he couldn’t really recognise the warning there.

Avarice stopped.

“Your time’s passed. Go back to whatever hole you were in these last years.”

Ocean-blue eyes turned to glare at him. And Derek’s blood ran cold in his veins. That look was the equivalent of staring death in the eye, while his cold scythe scraped at one’s nape. That look screamed _murder_.

Kai’sa instinctively stepped in front of him, her living suit flaring at the deadly shift in the air.

One deep breath later, Fenrir turned away, nonchalantly walking towards the exit, as if the whole arena hadn’t just been rendered speechless by the sheer bloodlust she exuded in that one moment.

It was the High Summoner who walked up to the microphone to calm the tides, but Evelynn barely listened to what he was saying.

The earlier scene replayed in her mind multiple times. She always came to the same conclusion;

Without an arena full of people and the whole world watching, Avarice would, without a doubt, have killed Derek on the _spot_.

…

“Come with me for a moment.” Evelynn said, her hand, absent claws, closing around her summoner’s wrist. The rest of K/DA were too tired to even notice, so they continued on while the duo took their separate way.

Derek had been more than happy to oblige, eagerly pulled whichever way Evelynn desired to lead with absolutely no resistance. The demoness mauvered her way across corridors, to the closest place she could think of where cameras weren’t installed. Finally at her destination, the narrow pathway leading to several storage rooms, she let go, turning to her summoner with the hottest smile in the world. A smile dripping promises of unimaginable sin.

The man puffed out his chest in a show of bravado, a ‘cool’ act, but his heart-rate and the sweat glistening at his nape said otherwise.

Evelynn could have transformed into a number of things to get the effect she wanted on people, but she had found nothing intimidated so surely and so subtly as beauty.

Nothing could hide nightmares better than the visage of dreams.

Not-at-all nicely, she backed Derek into the wall, pressing him into it. Not that he seemed to complain. His mouth, or any other part of him, for that matter. And if there were no complains…

…then the League’s magic could not detect that someone was in danger. Thus, it couldn’t _stop_ her.

“So,” she began in a whisper, leaning a tad closer. “What you did at the arena today…” she pressed the tip of her lasher to his stomach, a touch he could feel but couldn’t see. A touch that did a number of things to him. The foolish human was so caught up in the heady flame of his arousal he barely registered the blade so close to his intestines. “…was so fucking _stupid_.” Evelynn’s molten look turned flat within a millisecond.

“I… what?” he breathed out.

“You see, something has to be made very clear between us.” she said, her hold inescapable iron. “Avarice belongs to _me_.” A pause. “And if you ever disrespect something that belongs to me again…”

Amber eyes flashed a slitted yellow, cold enough to freeze hell over.

Her lasher cut a thin line over Derek’s shirt, barely leaving a red line on his skin.

“I will _gut_ you.”

The sound of heels and the taste of fear were the only things that dared follow Evelynn outside.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Let me just confess at this point I am absolutely in love with Evelynn's voice, especially when she is in her demon shade mode (one my favorite quotes from her is at the end of this chapter ^.^). She was the champion that made me want to get back into League after her rework, so in my eyes she will always be queen. If you want to listen to the song that inspired this chapter -well, this whole fic to be honest- then look up 'Digital Daggers-Fear the Fever'. Especially the part where the song goes 'you know you're not safe here, i'll only bring you down' and the chorus. Thank you for your support, your feedback means a lot!
> 
> Oh and prepare yourselves for hungry, angry succubus that clearly has far too many top tendencies.

**[Avarice]**

Cool blue eyes swept over the landscape, drinking every detail in.

It was a magnificent morning; the light dispersing across the massive Institute gardens, bringing out the individual elegance of every flower, every petal, every strand of grass. Summoners walked to and from all pathways, talking animatedly about their latest matches, the newbies radiating sheer _excitement_ at seeing their idols close-up. Champions interacted with their partners, bonding, training together.

Riven was off to one corner of the grass, showing a fellow Platinum how to use her combo more effectively, while Karma was meditating atop a floating rock with her own duo. A beautiful blonde girl sitting on a bench nose-deep in a book was approached by a small poro, which wagged its tiny tail at her feet. The summoner smiled and gave it a snack from her bag.

Everything was glowing with... _life_.

Avarice stared longingly out the window, at the beauty of creation she no longer considered herself part of.

Behind her, heavy steps carried an even heavier presence into the room. She did not have to turn to know who it was.

“I had a feeling you’d be here.” Warwick’s rough voice tarnished the silence of the Platinum dorm’s study room. Avarice didn’t speak, didn’t have to. “Here, where nobody else is.”

“Let me guess; Soraka wanted to see me to make sure I’m fine.” Since she had essentially taken off running after—

After…

 _"Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”_ Evelynn’s voice from that night rang in her head, nothing short of demonic. Avarice’s muscles twitched from the memory of those cuts, the deep phantom gashes she’d _felt_ tear across her eyes. The catalyst to the collapse of the thin mental balance she had managed to establish thus far. Fenrir bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to ground herself in the present, not to lose her mind again to the tortured memories that pounded away at every door she shut them behind.

And Warwick’s agonized cry when Ahri had severed his forearm… Avarice recognized pain that ran far deeper than skin and bone.

“He took your arm.” she stated, almost an afterthought. The unspeakable things Singed had done to him, they would always be an open wound bleeding him out. Just like the unspeakable horrors she witnessed would always remain with her. Locked. Never forgotten.

“He took far more than that.” Warwick’s gaze spat fires. A pause; and then, “They took your eyes.” he said back.

Avarice let her gaze drop to her breast, to the softly-glowing pendant there. The symbol of all that she was… and everything she wasn’t. A chuckle full of misery escaped her lips somewhere along the way. “They took far more than that.”

 _“Evelynn! Evelynn help me!”_ Her own voice, broken in a thousand different ways, reflected in the mirror of her mind right back at her. And who had she begged for help, really…

“You know, at first, I wondered how you could have such high summoning affinity with me.” Warwick spoke. At first glance, they had nothing in common. 

“And now?”

“I don’t wonder anymore.” 

...

Avarice walked among the gardens the same way a wolf would walk among sheep, disquised as one of them. She felt entirely out of place compared to the rest of the things around her, the people and the animals and the plants. Entirely... disconnected. Like it was wrong, to pretend the rise and fall of her chest was anything more than habit at that point. Like it was wrong of her to exist at all.

The world was not meant to be walked by things like her. It was never meant to be seen by eyes like hers. It took constant energy and focus to ground her vision to a regular person’s wavelength, but if she so much as blinked the wrong way...

The curtain fell to reveal...

“Avarice!”

The call of her name snapped her out of her changing vision. The grey that had seeped into her view gave way to color, abstract shapes and veins of magic dissipating to air.

Fenrir stopped, blinking several times. As thankful as she was for that distraction, she really was in no mood to mingle. Her old teammates had other ideas.

Luis and Ventus, both GrandMasters by then, rushed over to her side. Genuine, warm smiles directed at her. They made a new wave of guilt rise up from the pit at her chest. How was she supposed to tell them the girl they thought they were reuniting with was long gone?

“We looked everywhere for you!” Luis said excitedly. “I mean, Soraka told us you needed time to recover and process everything, but we really were looking forward to seeing you.”

“Are you alright?” Ventus, ever polite and timid, asked.

Avarice faked a smile. “Yeah… I am still adjusting to life back here.”

“We’ve seen all your matches so far. Adjusting or not, you’re on _fire_.” Luis praised.

“Thank you. Speaking of which, I have a game in a few so…” Avarice motioned towards one of the smaller arenas at the far distance. If the ‘few’ minutes were a few more than a ‘few’, well. A white lie, wouldn’t hurt anyone. Her presence, however, could.

“We don’t want to keep you, but allow us to invite you out tonight? The whole team will be there.” Ventus looked at her, eyes large, hopeful.

“You have _got_ to come.” Luis pressed his palms together, offering his most dazzling smile. “For old times’ sake.” A huff. “Even though, back then, you were always busy with Evelynn.”

Avarice bit the inside of her cheek at the mention. It was true her younger, oblivious self had been more than excited to spend her limited free time with the woman straight out of a novel fantasy, turning down her teammates without a second thought. It had been too exhilarating, too easy, to soak up every bit of her attention. Like living a dream.

She, like anyone else, would have given the _world_ for Evelynn’s touch, then, but the siren had always treated her as though she was made of glass. It was years later that Avarice could finally appreciate how hard her luck worked to save her from her own stupid wishes. From longing for a caress that was _lethal_.

“Not that I blame you because she’s—uh. She’s so…” Ventus trailed off, stars swimming in his eyes. If it were possible, there would be floating hearts around his head with Evelynn’s image in them. “ _Perfect_.” he concluded in one word after a dozen gestures.

Avarice tried for a smile that came out as a grimace.

 _“Come see me on Friday.”_ Evelynn’s deep, sultry voice once again invaded her mind.

She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket, taking out the VIP ticket the demoness had given her. The urge to burn it right there was strong, but, instead, Avarice extended her hand towards Ventus. The man stood staring at her in equal parts surprise and awe.

“T-That’s—” he gasped. The ticket had Evelynn’s signature lipstick mark on it, and the paper itself still smelled faintly of her perfume.

“Yours. It’ll go wasted on me, anyway.” She shrugged. Ventus was about to _cry_ from joy.

Avarice turned to go—

But Luis reached forward and grabbed her hand.

The air sizzled with dark magic. _Don’t touch me!_ Avarice wanted to shout, yet she drowned the sound in the back of her throat.

“Promise you’ll come?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” Fenrir nodded, fast, too fast, simply for the sake of making him let go. The following moments were less ‘tactical retreat’ and more ‘running away’, complete with deep, unnecessary breaths all the way to the main building of the Institute.

Then an alarming thought struck her; if she reacted so powerfully to people touching her…

…before her match that night, why had she stood there, lulled by Evelynn’s touch for so long?

…

It got worse after that relapse she had on stage.

She tried to hide it, but the memories wouldn’t leave her alone.

Like a dark hole pulling at her, unavoidable, wrecking her in its depths. Her own cries reverberated in her ears. She saw blood where it wasn’t present; on the walls, on her hair, on her hands. Her eyes hurt and _hurt_ –

That was the thing with trauma; it could come as heavy rain or it could come as a hurricane. One moment she was in control and the next…

…kneeled over in the empty house that she used to call home.

It was easy to let go of it, of course. All she had to do was remove the glowing tear hanging by a thin silver chain around her neck. All it took was to let go of everything. Of emotion. Of her humanity.

She’d wanted to be even a fraction of her old self, if at all possible, while being out with her friends. To smile at their jokes and get nostalgic over their antics. To _care_ about how their lives shaped in the three years she missed.

Alas.

Avarice placed the pendant at the titanium safe and locked it behind. Lack of emotion was better than spiralling out of control. She would stay an hour or two and then jump ship. All she had to do was remember how to smile. She told herself that _everything will be alright._

The nightclub was packed with people. Bodies undulating to the rhythm of the bass, the music so loud it bypassed her ears to pound straight at her brain. Perfumes mixed with sweat and alcohol in the air, overwhelming her sense of smell. Avarice let out a sigh as she slipped by every available opening, with all the grace of an assassin. At the center of the large, blue-lit counter, stood four familiar faces. They all smiled and raised their drinks at her approach, like a toast to good times.

“There she is!” Luis laughed. Avarice was certain a normal human would never have heard him over the noise.

“It’s great to see you guys!” she shouted over the music, hoping it wasn’t too low or too loud. She really couldn’t tell. They seemed to hear her, though, so she only slightly adjusted her volume in the following minutes.

It was strange, that clubs had never seemed so chaotic at Evelynn’s side. Everything had seemed quieter and so _safe_. The irony of it all.

Fenrir kept glancing around, over her shoulder, at every spike in sounds; a glass shattering on the floor, a man knocking against a table in his drunken haze. Her muscles were coiled for a fight despite her willing them looser. _I’ve grown paranoid._ Avarice thought, shutting her eyes for a moment so she would stop seeing danger _everywhere_. 

“Hey.” A hand on her arm made her jump. “You okay? You’re tense.” Luis’ eyes were wide with concern. If only he knew that he just made it worse.

“I’m fine.” She took half a step back, for his safety rather than her own. “A little dizzy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a lightweight, Avarice!” his smile would be contagious, in any other situation. Fenrir focused her attention on her glass, the lights reflecting over the clear surface of her drink. _Focus, focus._ She urged herself. “Hey, you wanna dance?” Luis asked, already swaying lightly to the beat.

 _Too much contact for me. “_ No, No I—” but Avarice was cut off by another member of their group, Marise, whistling loudly.

“Wow _guys_. Look at Ventus _go_!”

Blue eyes followed the path of hers towards the center of the dance floor, where Ventus looked positively lost in _heaven,_ dancing with a blonde _way_ out of his league. A volcano of a woman, whose body was carefully handcrafted by the gods, whose sculpted hips rocked to the music as though she owned everything in the club. She certainly seemed to know she could own _everyone_.

“I never thought he had it in him!” Luis exclaimed.

Avarice’s vision prickled with grey tendrils. She averted her eyes for a moment, but when they fell back onto the pair—

If she had a beating heart inside her chest, it would have stilled then.

There wasn’t a hint of color inside that woman’s soul, nor anywhere in her energy. She was an augur of darkness, a flaming black, with twin scissors attached to her back.

Avarice willed the magic away from her eyes, back in the depths of her mind, under lock and key. _She shouldn’t be here!_ She was thankful to not be _able_ to panic in that moment, because otherwise her thoughts would have clouded over with it.

_I need to get Ventus out of there. But that... won't be easy._

Fenrir took a breath. Looked at her friends, each of them happy for a different reason. Committed their smiling faces to memory, because she was aware they would not be facing her in such a way again anytime soon. Part of her wished she could feel sorrow. Another was glad that it couldn’t.

Avarice turned away from her group without another word, ignoring their confusion as she walked right up to the dance floor. The blonde narrowed her captivating green eyes at her, almost as though issuing a challenge. She did not disentangle her arms from Ventus’ neck, behind her. Intoxicated by the alcohol in his system and beyond drunk on desire, eyes practically glazed over from it, the young summoner barely noticed anything was amiss.

“You want to play too, darling?” the woman asked. And that twitch of her lip into _that_ smile, Avarice recognized all too well.

Fenrir stepped forward, pushing at Ventus’ shoulder lightly. A relative term, for it had him staggering two steps backwards and finally off the blonde beauty. She merely laughed, a deep, haughty sound. His eyes however…

They regarded Avarice with something like hurt. Like betrayal.

“Why?” maybe he mouthed or maybe she imagined it. Either way, Avarice simply stared at him under her eyelashes. The woman smirked, lips glistening and dark like poison. Ran her hand, all manicured nails, down Avarice’s bare arm. It was the match thrown in gasoline.

Ventus’ chest heaved as he hauled himself forward, lip curling with the full intent to fight his fellow summoner for her attention if he had to.

“Don’t.” Avarice warned, but he didn’t listen.

One shove with her aura was all it took. Ventus flew clean off the stage, his back moping the floor until he stopped sliding thanks to friction. Several people turned to look. Their mutual friends rushed over to the collapsed man’s side.

The woman had the audacity to lower her chin onto Avarice’s shoulder, to laugh low in her ear. A throaty, satisfied little laugh that tickled her eardrums and skin, in a voice that haunted both her dreams and some of her nightmares.

“Wanna get out of here?” she asked.

…

The air outside kissed frost across their cheeks.

Avarice’s senses were much sharper without the club’s onslaught of scents and noise, hyperaware of every move made by the woman currently leading her into the dark by the wrist. A touch that would be almost soothing, if it wasn’t also inescapable. The idea to simply tug herself free of that grasp was more than tempting, but she would prefer not to break bones, if it could be helped. It wouldn’t hurt, per se, but the sensation… it sent chills down her spine just thinking about it.

A block down and two sharp turns into a hidden, empty alley later, Avarice spoke up. “Isn’t this far enough… Evelynn?”

The woman halted.

Then she turned, a terrifying gleam in her eye as she began to circle around her body like a panther stalking its prey. A demonic laugh lingered in the air. Once she was back in Avarice’s field of vision, her form was that of the charming diva she had once fallen for. Startling as it was, the summoner refused to let it show.

Evelynn casually reached forward and tugged her closer by the belt loops. Fixed her with an amber gaze that was magnetizing like a flame. And ten times as dangerous. “How did you know?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Avarice nearly regretted saying that, when her back made _very_ sudden contact with the nearest wall. Evelynn towered over her, crowding her space, her arm pressed to the concrete by the summoner’s head feeling exactly how prison bars did. Long, deft fingers trapped her chin, forced her gaze exactly where Avarice wouldn’t like to be, at those lidded, hypnotic eyes. “Honey. I asked you a question.” They were close enough for her to feel Evelynn’s sweet, hot breath on her lips.

Avarice didn’t think her answer would change anything in the long run. Blue eyes glared icy daggers at her captor. Subtle muscle movements tested the strength of her hold. _I’ll have to break something after all, don’t I..._

Fluid like steam, Evelynn slid between her legs and pressed _up_ against her like she belonged there, the two of them slotted as one. The hold of her fingers loosened so they stood as a caress at Fenrir’s chin, rather than a pressure. Black nails dragged over all the vulnerable spots there. Once, Avarice would have melted at the contact. But she no longer was that girl. 

“Hmm.” Evelynn focused, as though listening in for something. “You… really don’t feel it, do you?” she asked like the mere notion broke her heart.

Avarice thought she was speaking of desire. Arousal. 

But that was when she became aware of the lasher pressed well into her side.

“You don’t feel _pain_.” Evelynn nearly growled in spite.

In the blink of an eye, Avarice summoned all her power in a flare around her, shoving the demoness off. Evelynn twirled in a stylish butterfly kick in the air and landed perfectly on her high heels, soundless as a cat. Her eyes flashed stark _yellow_. One moment she was right there, the next vanished, dissipated into shadow.

 _“Oh, I knew this would be interesting~”_ came a whisper out of nowhere. _“Don’t worry. We’ll find your spot, love.”_

Avarice unlocked the seal she normally struggled to maintain behind her eyes. The world broke apart into terrible shapes and energies, but she could very easily make out—

A lasher went straight for her shoulder. She side-stepped it, grabbing the second one that came after her torso. “That trick won’t work here, I’m afraid. I see exactly what you are...” Avarice spoke, turning her head to look straight at Evelynn through her camouflage. At her true, terrible form, the shadow with eyes like gold hellfire and curved horns atop her head. “And _where_ you are.”

A hiss; and then… the demoness dropped the invisibility to lunge straight for her throat. The arsenal of spectral weapons at Fenrir’s disposal manifested in front of her, blocking the attack. She dispelled them at just the right moment to throw Evelynn off her balance. It was enough of an opening to tackle her into the opposite wall with her shoulder.

The powerful slam cracked the concrete. Before the demoness could use her superior strength to retaliate, Avarice called forth a sword and stabbed it straight through her gut. She shouldn't have been surprised that no blood leaked out, only black smoke. Under her breath, an incantation was whispered. The weapon glowed, then stunned Evelynn frozen for several seconds.

Avarice channelled the teleporting spell.

“Don’t do anything _stupid_.” Evelynn hissed out.

But they were already standing on League grounds. Where, even if she tried to, the Champion just _couldn’t_ hurt her.

Avarice looked down at the wound at her side. It had already began to heal. By the time anybody got to them, it wouldn’t be clear evidence. So, she took a breath, looked at Evelynn, still in her demon form, and summoned a sword into her hand. And.

She stabbed herself with it.

Twice on the shoulder, once on her thigh. Left a gash there to make it more believable.

“Help! Somebody _help_ me!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. Evelynn’s jaw dropped.

“Have you gone _mad_?” she asked, snapping out of her demonic visage, back to her human body.

Avarice kept back a smirk. Counted to ten.

Sure enough, a light descended like a missile onto them, right on time. It landed in a powerful shockwave of gold, before an armored goddess stood tall between Evelynn and her. Kayle radiated righteous fury as she stared the demoness down.

“I wish I could claim I'm surprised. In violation of your summoning contract—”

“No, _no_ I did _not_ touch her within Institute grounds!” Evelynn growled, but magical binds were already being secured around her wrists.

"So she stabbed herself." Kayle deadpanned, no small amount of disbelief in her voice.

"Yes!"

“You can say _that_ to the High Council.”

Avarice pretended to collapse on her good leg, feigning utter devastation. _Enjoy your ban,_ she thought.

Kayle turned to access the damage done to her. Once she was certain she was not in critical condition and could get to the Med-wing by herself, she pivoted back to her fellow Champion.

Evelynn’s gaze, though, lingered on Avarice. Cold. Downright _murderous_.

‘ _You forced me to do it.’_ The summoner conveyed through her eyes. “We’re done here, Evelynn.” she said.

Evelynn’s lip twitched. In a tight smile, a promise. “We’re done when _I’m_ done.” the demoness replied, dark and sinister. 

She put up no further resistance, futile against Kayle anyway, as the angel dragged her away.

Long after they were gone, Avarice rose to her feet. Step after weighted step, she made her way to the Platinum dorm. Her clothes were a mess of cuts and tears, but nobody really saw before she leapt to the safety of her room. Behind the locked door, she let out the breath she had been holding since she left the club.

Mentally exhausted, Avarice allowed her body to slide down the frame and onto the floor. Her head came to rest upon her knees. She wondered what she’d feel, for everything that transpired the past hour, if she was still wearing the pendant that made emotions possible. If she would laugh bitterly at what had been a long time coming. If she would cry.

 _The High Council will buy me some time, but will it be enough? I started a war on two fronts now._ She told herself. _I need to be ready for it. Because the cult won’t stop… and neither will_ she _._

Alone, in her fortress of emptiness, Avarice shut her eyes and contemplated her next move.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey again, welcome to the newest chap where I shamelessly obsess over Evelynn's hotness at the beginning notes. Also, as much as I hate playing against Akali, the whole 'rogue attitude' is starting to grow on me. And I am weak for wholesome K/DA shenanigans so. There you have it. This chapter should explain certain plot points but we still got a long way to go. 
> 
> Was listening to 'Smoke and Mirrors', Cover by RafScap while writing this. It's really easy to picture Eve singing it too.

**[Evelynn]**

A two-week ban behind magical barriers. That had been the High Council’s final verdict. Not the most lenient of sentences, considering she had bought off half the court. _Useless human idiots._

The first few days hadn’t been much of a problem. At least, not physically. It was her reputation that took the blunt of the hit, the media flooded with speculation about what could have possibly caused it her ‘mysterious ban’. Ahri was excellent at damage control, but not everybody was content with the lies she fed the world. Reporters kept digging and digging. It would be a long while until the scandal was forgotten. K/DA was forced to cancel an interview and two concerts in the meantime.

Then came the hunger. The void. It crept at the edges of her consciousness, threatening to pull her back in. On the seventh day, Evelynn sat on the lone chair of the magical isolation chamber and shut her eyes, trying to conserve as much energy as possible.

On the twelfth day, still unmoving like a statue lost in the passage of time, she realized her control over her fabricated body was waning. Her lashers came out of camouflage, crashing lifeless on the ground by her seat. Her hair had reverted to its ashen color, all vibrance lost, her skin too pale. In the depths of her mind, she could see the edges of her form dissipating, like smoke in the breeze.

There were times she was in danger of losing her focus altogether, but Avarice’s face snapped to mind, almost a self-preservation instinct. Almost like sharpening a blade. She was intent on making her pay for every second she spent locked up due to her little stunt. 

A familiar pattern of light footsteps outside her prison made Evelynn open her eyes. She didn’t trust her hearing, at first, but soon enough Akali was there, waving casually at her under her signature K/DA cap.

“Morning, Eve.” She said in a little smile, stepping as close as the barrier would allow. “Blonde looks good on you too.”

 _Everything does._ Evelynn wanted to retort, but even that took more out of her than she felt she had in that moment. “How?” she asked.

“Well…” Akali dragged the word. “After many failed attempts I finally stumbled onto guards that were fans. And Ahri pulled some strings to get you out a day early.”

Evelynn could never imagine a world where she’d be thankful to Ahri for any reason. _I must have hit a new low in life._ Just another thing Avarice would end up answering for.

_But Akali... why is she here?_

It wasn’t easy to get a read on her emotions behind the seal, but she seemed almost... relieved to see her? Glad. Evelynn deduced that she must have been worried about her, though she couldn’t fathom why. They all came into K/DA as a business partnership, mutually beneficial. Even if enough time had passed to make being around each other habit, Akali should be the last person to have illusions about what she was. And yet.

“The house is awfully quiet without you and Ahri bickering over our heads.” the rogue confessed. She inched closer, poking at the barrier to see if it had any give. Surprisingly enough, her hand passed straight through it without any resistance. Evelynn only then realized it was created to keep _her_ in, not people _out_.

“Don’t!” she snapped, her voice coming out slightly distorted. Akali drew her hand back, something like sadness flickering lightning-fast across her gaze before it reverted back to its usual cool neutrality.

“Did you do it?” she asked.

“Funny how you never asked me that when everybody was saying I killed her.” Evelynn replied.

“I knew you hadn’t. But did you hurt her now?”

The demoness was tempted to lie. She still had no idea why that ‘no lies among the group’ rule felt so restrictive for her. Why she abided by it. “Not inside the League.”

“But.” Akali paused. “I thought you were like… a thing.”

Evelynn wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the notion. “I don’t do ‘things’. I _only_ do one-night stands.” Her grin did nothing to conceal a gleaming fang.

Yes, she had intended to fuck Avarice within an inch of her life when she took her out of that club –the way she shoved her friend clean off the stage with just a flick of her magic had been _hot_ — but she would have killed her all the same by the time she was done.

Fenrir wasn’t really that different from her usual playthings. Just sexier in her newfound mystery. Rare, like a fine wine that should be savored first. She’d be discarded when she’d gone dry regardless. That was how it was always bound to end between them. Evelynn tried to fool herself that she could leave her unharmed, a pretty trophy by her side to enjoy looking at, but that was all that had been; a delusion. Recent events made her realize that.

“Sad.” Akali said, genuinely regretful. “It seemed as though you really cared about her.”

 _So by extension I could care about you guys too?_ Evelynn held herself back from saying. Instead… “That’s not how it works for me.” she replied.

“And yet you kept me out of this barrier.” was thrown her way with a tiny smirk. Akali left that hanging in the air for the following twenty-four hours, until Evelynn’s release.

And linger in the room with her it did.

…

Evelynn stretched her form like a cat basking under the sun… except the sky was dark with clouds. Not that it mattered when she felt powerful and in control again, after two weeks of famish.

Her skin was glowing, flawless and smooth, her magenta hair so vibrant she looked like she just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Fleeting feeling returned to her being and with it, a burning need for revenge.

Oh, it felt so good to _want_ to tear something apart slowly, to look _forward_ to all the games she and her pretty little summoner would play. Inside her favorite sports car, her glorious purple Lamborghini, Evelynn tapped her manicured nails on the steering wheel. It wasn’t often she got to experience excitement.

 _What have you been up to these days, I wonder..._ She mused, while switching gear and breaking any speed limit that could ever exist in Runeterra. Her eyes were on the road, but her mind traveled miles away.

All the way to the night of the match she had against Avarice. Her stern exterior could fool people, but it couldn’t fool Evelynn –she was certain Fenrir had _felt_ it when she caressed words against her skin, when her golden claws caught on the smooth contours of her abs. The demoness could _taste_ it and yet she hadn’t felt her veins pound against her lips. She hadn’t heard her heart speed up, hadn’t heard a sound at all.

To top it all off, she had been quite strikingly aware of Avarice’s pain as she’d pressed her palms to her eyes after the game. Sharp and sweet and delicious, tickling down Evelynn’s back and to her center, like a lover’s caress. There was no faking something so intense. It had driven Evelynn crazy to feel that again, that intoxicating arousal.

But then. _It doesn’t make sense._ It drove her crazier to reach so _close_ and be denied her pleasure, upon pressing the tip of her lasher into Avarice’s side for a taste. A taste that never came, instead leaving her with _nothing_. Not pain. Not desire. Not even a hint of it.

 _Humans can’t really turn their emotions off so completely… but you’re not human anymore, are you._ Whatever her abductors had done to her, it ran far deeper than just her attitude, Evelynn realized.

There were far too many pieces to the puzzle to connect herself… but she knew someone who could do it for her.

An hour later, in the Institute’s section forbidden to summoners and staff, Evelynn called for the harbinger of death. It did not take long for the arcane to shift and a terrible specter to appear through the fog. Karthus stood before her, a distant song of peril echoing in the air about him in a whisper.

“I have questions for you, Deathsinger.” she said. To one who so often spread death in her wake, she had no doubts he would answer.

“Ask them, Evelynn.”

“You can see across the veil of life and death, you said. I want you give me information about someone who could belong to either side.”

“You are asking about your heretic summoner.” Karthus’ dead tone turned ten times colder. “No need to look for her in the souls of the dead nor the living!”

“Heretic.” Evelynn repeated, narrowing her eyes.

“Of course! She has _denied_ the gift of death offered to her and clung onto a mockery of life. She turned her back to eternal peace and ecstasy with her desperate holding onto this world. But she is no longer a part of it.” Karthus’ echoing voice came, infuriated.

“And… what do you call something that’s neither alive nor dead?” Evelynn asked.

“A lich.” Karthus replied icily. “One whose body has been made immortal by extraction of their soul. What do you _really_ want to know, Evelynn?”

A dark, sinful smirk crossed her lips. “How do you torture a lich that doesn’t feel pain?”

…

K/DA was lively that evening at the cafeteria. Akali had spent the past ten minutes teasing Kai’sa mercilessly for her ‘painfully obvious’ crush on Sivir, while Ahri was giggling like an infatuated schoolgirl at Sona’s no-doubt cute texts. Evelynn was lounging against the cushions, one creamy leg crossed over the other, pretending to be engrossed in her phone while her thoughts kept drifting back to Karthus’ words.

_“She denied the gift of death.”_

Mindlessly, just so she wouldn’t be called out on her stillness, she periodically swiped her thumb across the screen, browsing a random folder of photos she had taken long ago. Until one came to the forefront of her vision that gave her pause.

In it, Evelynn was leaning heavily on a very blushing, very sheepishly smiling Avarice and holding the camera above them, in a setting that looked like a nightclub. She was a completely different person then. There were no shadows in her gaze, no set jaw and tight brow nor rigid frame. If Evelynn had made any real move on her, she would have begged her to take things further.

_But how things change._

Among the many groups of summoners that passed across the massive chamber, Evelynn’s eye caught on her target. Well, her secondary target. With all the grace of a queen rising from her throne, she stood, taking her cup along with her and addressed her group. “I’ve got some things to take care of tonight, so I may be late.”

“Should we be worried?” Ahri asked.

Evelynn smirked in reply. “Propably.”

The demoness subtly followed the team of summoners to the courtyard, where they separated for the night. Evelynn calculated what path she would take, how much latte was left in her cup and how she would go about the whole thing…

…and took a sharp turn around a tall hedge, crashing straight into the man from the other night. Ventus, or something. She hadn’t bothered to remember his name.

“I’m sorry!” he began. Then he did a double take and his eyes widened like saucers. “Oh my gods, _Evelynn_. I—I’m really sorry—” he stammered helplessly, his cheeks already turning red.

“Oh, no, it was my fault.” she said, coloring her voice accordingly. “I ruined your jacket too. Let me make it up to you.”

“N-no it’s alright–” he tried to say but she cut him off.

“I insist. Eleven outside the nightclub Omega, drinks on me.” The demoness gave her most charming look. She’d practiced the curve of her lip and gleam in her eye for endless hours. No man or woman had yet been able to resist the full force of it. Well, except _one_. But she would take care of that real soon.

“Of course, I’ll be there!” Ventus-or-something nodded, overly eager as a puppy.

“See you then.” she waved casually, walking towards the parking area with an obvious sway to her hips.

_Until then…_

Evelynn had about one hour to set her plan in motion.

…

_“How do you torture a lich that doesn’t feel pain?” Evelynn asked._

_“It can be simple or very complicated. Her soul exists within a phylactery, and for as long as it stays on her person she will feel everything like a normal human. The trick is finding that object. It can be anything, from a box to a ring to a tome. There is no way of telling, other than the fact it is indestructible by any means other than the magic that created it.” the Deathsinger spoke._

_“Well, I better get to it, then.”_

_“The interesting part starts for as long as it remains in your possession…” Karthus’ final words reverberated across the molecules of air along with his hollow, ominous laugh._

Getting to Avarice’s house had been child’s play. Evelynn had been invited inside numerous times in the past and it only took one for her to be able to come and go as she pleased. Since the ownership of the estate had not changed hands after the girl’s disappearance, the demoness had been able to walk right in as though she owned the place.

At first, she had no idea what to look for. Destroying every little thing she came across until she found one that couldn’t be broken was not much in way of a plan. Then she thought back to her conversations with Avarice. Tried to recall an object on her that she seemed to value. The difference between the times she had clearly felt something, no matter how subtle, and the time she hadn’t…

And then it clicked.

_Ah._

The pretty pendant around her neck.

The safe lodged in the library’s wall was no secret to Evelynn, nor its unlocking combination. She had taken to watching Avarice in the past, concealed as a shade outside her home, sometimes inside, when she had nothing interesting to do at night. 

_Moment of truth._

Evelynn held the pendant from its chain and gem… and gave a powerful _tug_.

Until that moment, she had expected it to not be so easy, for the thing to come apart in her grasp just like everything else did. Alas, it didn’t even register the force. The demoness summoned all her strength to make sure. She pulled again. The pressure she put into breaking it that time cut her own skin… and yet the pendant remained in one piece.

Smirking, Evelynn raised it to her lips for a little kiss.

_Round two, honey._

_…_

Ventus was outside the club early, waiting for her with his back turned to the alley behind him. Evelynn laughed to herself as she camouflaged her form in the shadows and crept close…

One hit on the back of his neck was all it took to knock him out cold. The demoness carefully balanced him on her lashers and walked over to her Lamborghini, parked near the entrance to the woods, where nobody really went at night. She dropped him like a sack of potatoes in the area illuminated by the headlights –no way would she let the human pest into the beautiful, scented interior– and took a picture with her phone. It was immediately forwarded to Avarice. She thought about waiting for her inevitable call but found herself too impatient. She took the lead on that one.

The other line barely had time to ring.

 _“If you touch even a hair on him–!”_ Avarice’s voice growled into her ear.

“Hello to you too, darling.” Evelynn smiled. “Did you like the pic I sent you? The next one will be very artistic, I promise you.”

 _“Leave him alone. Tell me where you are.”_ The nerve of that girl. As if she was in any position to make demands. But Evelynn decided she liked it.

“I’m in the entrance to the woods close to Omega. And if you’re not here in half an hour, the next picture you get of your friend will feature every inside on the _outside_.”

Avarice hang up.

Evelynn rolled her eyes.

She checked her watch once. Ten minutes had passed. The second time marked twenty more. And then…

The demoness felt a very distinct rush of air heading straight for the back of her neck. She side-stepped just in time to see a spectral sword, the same one that had once been shoved into her middle, nail itself into the soil ahead of her. A very unimpressed look was thrown towards Avarice, standing there radiating cold fury she didn’t truly feel.

“Is this how we’ll greet each other now?” Evelynn raised her eyebrows innocently. “ _Okay_.” she smirked the next second.

Avarice made a dash towards her friend.

Ignoring her was about the last straw.

“Kneel.” Evelynn commanded, gripping the pendant in her palm.

Avarice’s body halted mid-way, collapsing onto one knee like a suit of armor that lost the will breathing life into it. Her pretty eyes widened so wonderfully with the realization. Evelynn chuckled, walking to the summoner in even strides of her heels.

“What’s wrong, love? He’s right there, go get him.” She urged. Laughed. “You have to save him, don’t you? Nothing’s stopping you.”

“What did you _do_.” Avarice hissed through gritted teeth. Her glare promised death. It would be far more intimidating if they didn’t both know Evelynn had full control of her and there was _nothing_ she could do about it. She could even order her to kill her friend and Avarice would comply like a good girl. _Decisions, decisions._

“Oh, this?” Evelynn dangled the pendant from its chain in front of her face. “I borrowed it for a while.”

“You—” Avarice seethed.

“Don’t move.” Evelynn said, just to make sure. She slipped close to Fenrir, sat casually on her bent leg. The demoness fixed her with a look, a curled finger under her chin. Her hand was positioned so the pendant’s chain touched Avarice’s neck. “You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t forced my hand.”

Bitterness spread out across the girl’s emotions. Rage and hurt and acrid _betrayal_.

“No, I should have just let you torture him, right? Like you let them do to _me_.”

Evelynn’s lips parted, but for a moment, just a moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. “Would you prefer it if it had been me?”

Avarice struggled, but it wasn’t like she could lie while the demoness was in possession of the pendant. “Yes!” The truth came spilling out of her lips, making her even angrier for it.

Evelynn stood, drawing the phylactery away and holding it loosely between her fingers. “Well, now you’ll get to see both sides, so let me know which is worse—” she began in a flare of frustration she couldn’t explain—

But something snapped through the air and straight through her hand.

And it _burned_.

Evelynn reflexively opened her fingers and stepped back, realizing too late that she let go of the pendant…

Until Avarice caught it in the air and _flashed_ away.

The demon stared distastefully at the silver bolt embedded into her wrist. Vayne was still aiming her weapon at her, while Ryze gathered the summoner into his side for protection.

“Leave it to you to fuck everything up.” Evelynn muttered under her breath. “I should have opened you up as a kid.”

Vayne growled and fired three more shots at her. They were all avoided like they moved in slow motion. It was just that initial shitty, cheap bolt that got her at the _worst_ possible time...

“I’ll make you choke on silver, demon.” Vayne promised coldly.

“Terrifying. Truly.” Evelynn replied sarcastically.

Vayne straightened her pose. Looked around, until her gaze landed on the luxurious sports car. The demoness did not have the time to open her mouth and spit out an array of death threats before Vayne fired _straight_ into the engine.

The small explosion that followed was downright painful to witness.

Even for her. 

“You fucking piece of _trash_.” Evelynn breathed out as she shifted into her demon form. “Alright. Time to join mommy and daddy!” she taunted, which would have gotten Vayne good, if Ryze hadn’t stepped forward and pushed her back, next to Avarice.

“Take the summoners away, Vayne! Don't let her taunt you! This fight is pointless –she will just slip away.”

Avarice capitalized on the brief distraction, moving faster than lightning to grab the unconscious summoner and leap away from her once again.

Holding Ventus like a jar made of glass, she channeled the _Teleport_ spell.

It occurred to Evelynn Ryze could stop her potential attack to interrupt the girl, but not if it came from Vayne, right behind him. All she had to do to keep Fenrir in the party would be to speak up about her true nature –and chances were the Night Hunter, in all her obsession with the supernatural, would look into it. Right then and there, she’d make sure Avarice was human before letting her go. And finding out that she wasn’t… she’d hunt her down. Relentlessly. 

She’d deserve it too, for all the trouble she gave Evelynn.

And yet she did not move to stop her. Did not speak to stop her.

Their eyes locked in the process, blue to gold.

It was the first time Avarice had ever been _afraid_ of her.

Evelynn considered her terror a victory, but for some reason it didn’t taste like one. A few seconds later the summoners were gone in a beam of purple. The demoness was left there, with the ruins of her favorite car and two Champions who got on her nerves to deal with.

“You’ll pay dearly for the Lamborghini.” Was the last thing she vowed before she slipped into the shadows, disappearing into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The equivalent of 'noo, not the car'. Guess who's gonna get their ass camped now in the Fields of Justice. Smashing the Lambo comes at a great price but Vayne enjoyed it to the depths of her soul. 
> 
> Final thing to point out is, Evelynn has echoes of emotions (faintly, only when she's recently fed) so subtly and so rarely she doesn't understand herself what she's feeling half the time. She doesn't have a name for many things that she gets to experience once in a blue moon and so she can't comprehend how Avarice's rejection really affects her. Same way that she called losing her anger, when it actually ran a little deeper than that. Gimme your feedback, it's always good to hear your thoughts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big hugs to all the people who messaged me on Tumblr and commented on the fic, you are what keeps any author going. I'd love to write faster but my work demands so much of my time it's unreal sometimes. Posting at an unusual hour because I have to leave for a week and didn't wanna keep you guys waiting. Plot is moving forward ;)
> 
> For those of you who have questions about what happened to Avarice these last 3 years, being kept in the dark is intentional and you'll get your answers soon. Thanks again, see you next time and know that your comments make my day!

**[Avarice]**

_Her sinister, low laugh lingered in the air._

_“Let’s find your spot, love.” Dark lips moved, broke into a grin brimming with sharp edges. Avarice used to love every subtle curl of those lips once, but there was nothing she hated more than the sight of them in that moment._

_She lashed out, a cry overflowing with rage, only to realize she couldn’t move a muscle. Frantic blue eyes looked up, at the chains binding her to the ground at every limb. Shocked to realize… they were her own. Her very weapons that cut into her skin. Her own strength turned against her._

_Evelynn’s smirk widened at her fruitless struggle. The demon lowered her shadowy form on top of her. Graceful, light, as though gravity had no sway over it. Avarice’s heart filled with ice. With dread. Bitterness spread out to engulf every fiber of her being._

_“Stop! Stop!” she shouted, loathing how her terror colored the words as a plea._

_“Shh, honey.” Evelynn cooed, a deadly claw trailing down her chin. “You should be used to it by now.” Yellow eyes pierced right down to her soul. The soul hanging by a thin chain around her neck –her immortality and her weakness. The symbol of her survival… and the sign of her torture._

_Twin claws descended onto her eyes—_

Avarice snapped awake with a gasp.

Her chest heaved, both palms pressed firmly over her iridescent eyes. The sheets pooled around her were a mess of crinkles from how hard she must have been clutching them in her sleep. It took every calming exercise she knew to keep herself under control.

“How could I have been so careless!” she shouted into the darkness of her room in a burst of nerves. She’d known Evelynn would be unpredictable. That she would seek her revenge, sooner or later. Avarice had _known…_ and yet she still underestimated the lengths the demoness would go to. Somehow, she had put dragging her friends into their mess past her. _Once again nobody is safe and it’s my fault._

_It is my fault._

_It’s—_

_“Oh, look at that. They are all dead now. And it is all. For._ You _.”_ the voice from her memories laughed. She found solace only in the fact that she had silenced it in the real world. It had no right to haunt her mind still and yet… deep down she knew it always would.

Avarice stood, walked over to the nearest window. She reached out and grasped the curtains there, harshly pulling them to the side. The full moon’s glare met her own.

 _The nightmare was right about one thing; you should be used to hell by now. You lived in it for years._ she told herself, even as her limbs buzzed with the horror of the dream still. Almost answering her call for security, her spectral weapons materialized in the air around her. Tied eternally to her will after they had lost their own, yet still somehow crying for retribution. Or perhaps echoing her own desires.

They had all been people, once.

Sacrificed for her, as she was sacrificed for the Cult.

“I promised you their blood.” she spoke to them, though the bound weapons were no longer anything but tools in her arsenal. To her, however, they would always be more. “Fear won’t stop me from keeping my word.”

Emotions wouldn’t stall her from her purpose.

…

It was –difficult, with the pendant on.

Outside the protective barrier of the League, Avarice felt hunted. Haunted. Her fear magnified every shadow, planted seeds of doubt in her mind that Evelynn could be anywhere, near, watching from afar – _everywhere_. Despite her magical sight, assuring there was nothing hostile nearby, she was hyperaware of animals making the slightest of sounds in the vast forest surrounding her, weary of every subtle shift of the air. One might even say paranoid.

But the need to exterminate the cult drove her forward.

The goons she’d killed last time had spilled the information of the next ritual quickly enough. All it had taken were a few broken bones and their wills bended like paper.

At the heart of the forest, Avarice saw the steady stream of magic flowing through the land and trees grow corrupted. The harmonic river of life twisted into a raging fire, reaching up into the sky like a beam, calling for something that should never be called, to witness yet another sacrifice in its name.

She would never allow that.

Fenrir slipped into her lich form, using its enhanced speed to dash like a speeding bullet towards the area of the ritual. Hooded chanters and blood-runes on the ground came into view. Avarice crashed into them like a hurricane.

Chains swirled in arcs across the air. Heads were sent flying at every corner. The lone woman they’d left to bleed out at the center of the circle screamed, trying to avert her eyes from the carnage. Avarice flashed next to her, severing her bonds with a flick of her magic.

“Open your eyes and run. You’re safe.” she promised.

The woman tried to stand, but she tripped in her panic. Fenrir grabbed her arm and hauled her up. At the same time, she sent a crushing wave of magic towards the cult members attempting to flee. It burned them to ash within mere moments.

“I said run!” Avarice snapped at the girl, using fear to beat her fear. It made her jump, but also woke her up enough to start running for the woods.

The summoner turned towards the last two cultists that would have, under normal circumstances, long disappeared from view amongst the trees. Sadly for them, her eyes could still trail their energy. Like a wolf smelling blood, Avarice hunted them down. It wasn’t long before two more corpses fell on the ground in pieces.

But then.

A dizzying aura momentarily clouded her senses.

Fenrir turned towards the distortion, seeing a portal-like gate open in the direction the victim had ran off to. _What the hell is that?!_

Something stepped out of the portal, making its way towards the woman with frightening speed. Avarice was inhumanly fast, but she _couldn’t_ make it to her in time. The closer she got, however, the more details she could make out about the dark creature.

It looked like a human soul. In shape. But the aura within was the same twisted flow she had witnessed during the ritual, red and writhing like a myriad worms. It caught the girl by her throat, turning towards Avarice as though waiting for her.

Seconds later, the summoner halted before the pair, reverted to normal vision.

A snake mask was the first thing she saw, stark white against the black of the man’s robes. The eyes underneath were those of a madman, gleaming with pride and amusement at the gore. Avarice was certain she had seen that mask before. It wasn’t as vivid in her mind as the ones present during her torture sessions… but she could not very easily forget the visage that came into her cell to poison her bloodstream with more drugs in-between being moved to different hideouts.

“Help me!” the woman’s chest heaved. She extended a hand towards Avarice, a plea for her life.

“Let her go.” she demanded, summoning her secondary sword, a straight katana, in her right hand.

“You couldn’t save your friends from us, Avarice. You couldn’t save yourself.” he croaked in a whisper, like a snake in human form would. “What makes you think… that you can save her?” He asked, dragging a hidden blade on the inside of his wrist across his captive's throat as he spoke.

“No!” Avarice howled into the night.

The woman’s form slid lifeless onto the moist soil. 

Half a second later, Fenrir’s sword was cutting through the man, from top to bottom.

–Or so she thought.

In reality, her weapon froze at the top of his head. An unknown force held her limbs from going for the killing blow, though there was no aura to be seen blocking her. The Snake laughed. Avarice growled, pulling her blade back to her side and extending her palm over his face.

A deadly burst of magic was let loose. It burned the grass to cinders, bending the tree behind the man till it broke. And yet… he remained there, unharmed. Standing before her, very much alive, those cold, crazed eyes mocking her for her failures.

“What the…”

His laugh sent chills down the earth itself. “Are you surprised? You think our own creation could turn against us?”

“I already killed one of your so-called ‘Seniors’.” she hissed.

“Seniors, yes. For not all of them are Founders.” he clarified. “You see, us Founders have made a pact with our sealed God. We live in his favour and under his protection.”

“Nonsense!” Avarice roared. Another blast. Another failed attempt at his head.

Avarice couldn’t _comprehend_ what was happening—

“For as long as we serve him, we are truly immortal!” the Snake exclaimed. “No force of life or death can harm us, Avarice!”

She didn’t want to believe it. She refused to believe it. But every single one of her attacks had no effect on him. Her torturer stood before her, vowing to kill more innocent people for his demon of a deity. And she… she couldn’t do a _thing_ to stop him.

_Powerless._

He could not be harmed. He knew it, when he came to face her. He came to mock her right in her face.

“Your escape is only a minor deviation from our grand plan. But you still serve admirably. In all these rituals, you’ve spilled more blood than we could have ever hoped for!” She could easily picture the power-drunk sneer beneath the mask. “Either way, our God gets his tributes. And in the end, the cult will offer him the power of a Rune to break free of his prison. You, Avarice. Your eyes _will_ lead us to that Rune.”

_No…_

_No!_

“You will choke on your own screams before that happens.” Avarice vowed before she teleported away, to the first location she could think of.

The sound of a river flowing over smoothed rocks reached her ears first. Fenrir collapsed next to the waterbed, knees welcomed by the soft soil. Her house wasn’t far away, but the thought Evelynn was forever invited there did not offer any comfort nor desire to be in that place.

Avarice dropped her head in her hands. She remained that way, hunched over, senses focused onto the running water and eyes tightly shut, beating herself over her failure, for many hours. Time meant little to her, anyway, in the state she was in. She drowned in darkness, her own and that of the woods around her.

Until the sun rose, promising hope for the day dawning.

…

The machine beeped periodically, attuned to the bedridden woman’s steady heartbeat. Her chest rose and fell like the gentle tide. Without the sterile hospital walls and monitors around, one would think she was merely sleeping.

 _But, then, why can’t you wake?_ Avarice asked inside her own mind, clutching her mother’s hand tighter. The hope in her chest that she would squeeze back, eventually, was getting smothered out like a flame without oxygen by the minute. She thought her torture would end the moment she escaped from the Cult, but it continued on, just in different forms.

“There you are.” A kind voice came from the door. “I was starting to worry when you didn’t show in the League these past days.” Soraka’s aura was unmistakable as she approached. Stars and soothing light.

“Good thing you didn’t send Vayne and Ryze to my rescue, this time.”

Soraka let out a soft laugh. “How do you know I didn’t?” Avarice felt her lips tug into a slight smile back. “Who ratted me out?”

“I pressed Vayne into telling me who tipped her off. She said I have you to thank.” Fenrir drew a breath. “So… thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” the Starchild replied. “I’m… sorry for what happened. I thought she would go after you, I always did, but I _wanted_ to be wrong.”

Avarice lowered her gaze. _So did I._ The thought jumped to the forefront of her mind. She chased it away. “Vayne was surprised Ryze was there, by the way.”

“I sent her to protect you… and him to protect her.” Soraka answered honestly. “Vayne is powerful and immensely driven but. She _is_ only human. We have _no_ idea what Evelynn is or what the full extent of her powers are. Perhaps not even she knows.”

Avarice’s brow furrowed at that. “You’re practically a Goddess and you don’t know?”

“I’ve never seen anything like her, before.” Soraka admitted carefully. “She walks the world, yet is entirely disconnected from it. She belongs to neither light nor darkness, any force of good or evil I have ever encountered. She is the definition of chaos –something in-between, neither life nor death.”

Avarice… froze.

_“For as long as we serve him, we are truly immortal!” the Snake exclaimed. “No force of life or death can harm us, Avarice!”_

The scene from a few days prior replayed in her mind. Then the Cult’s obsession with Evelynn’s true form, revering her as though she was one step below their demon-God.

“Wait…” Avarice said, turning fully to face Soraka. “Say that last part again.”

“She’s neither tied to life nor death, when practically everything in this world falls into one of two categories?”

_No force of life or death can harm the Founders… but can something in-between? Is it worth everything I’ll have to sacrifice to find out?_

“Are you alright?” Soraka asked, all soft concern.

Avarice’s eyes fell back onto the comatose form of her mother.

_I will not let you wake up to a world terrorized by the Cult and its monster…_

_…even if I have to make a deal with a devil for it._

_…_

The orange sunlight’s reflection upon the Institute’s massive gold and silver rendered it a breathtaking sight to behold. No matter how many times Avarice had witnessed it, her gaze always paused to admire the grandiose, the glowing giant overlooking the world. Its unmistakable symbol of balance and peace, shining like a beacon during both night and day.

At the main gate, she took a deep breath.

It wasn’t late enough for K/DA to be preparing for a concert or match and it wasn’t early enough for the group to be at their studio or estate outside the League. Avarice thought her best bet to be the cafeteria.

Fenrir stepped past the threshold into the large, heavenly-scented space, a mixture of very expensive coffee and pastries wafting about the air. Champions and high-ranked summoners were lounging in the plush couches and tables all around… and it wasn’t hard to spot K/DA among them.

Sona was there, next to Ahri, which was always a good thing in Avarice’s book. Akali was furiously tapping her phone, probably playing a game, while Kai’sa was leaning over her shoulder to see. And Evelynn… she was wearing her mauve glasses for style, one long leg crossed over the other as she languidly stirred her latte with its purple straw.

Avarice recognized that look. It was the ‘I’m bored, don’t talk to me’ look.

The summoner sent a silent prayer to her luck to avoid a scene, as she made her way to the wolf’s den. Ahri was the first to notice her, her ears raising in alarm and back going rigid in her seat. Avarice stopped right in front of their table.

“Evelynn.” she said before she could lose her nerve. “I need a word with you.”

She barely had the time to get the words out before Kai’sa’s living suit flared purple, coiled tighter around her form, fully expecting a fight. Akali’s gaze darted from her to Evelynn. Her ring finger subtly slipped into the circle of the first kunai at her belt.

The demoness didn’t even react. She raised her head slowly, fixing Avarice with an incredulous stare behind her shades. She didn’t speak, which, somehow, only made the summoner more nervous. 

“In private.” Avarice added.

Akali shot her a ‘have you thought this through?’ look.

Evelynn huffed, set down her cup and uncrossed her legs. She towered over Avarice in her heels as she leaned in to whisper “Outside the League or don’t waste my time.”

“Outside it is.”

Ahri nearly jumped at her compliance. Evelynn threw Fenrir a smirk full of sinful promise. “Lead the way.”

…

Avarice teleported the two of them outside League grounds, to a park at the top of the hill near her home. It was quiet, with only a few people around. Chances were they wouldn’t even see Evelynn if she played her cards right, tackled her just out of their sight. But Avarice chose that place instead of something safe and heavily crowded specifically for that reason –a small display of trust. For the time being, the demoness behaved herself.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but I think you have a serious kink for suicide.” Evelynn commented after a subtle scan of her surroundings. She gracefully reached up and removed her glasses. Without the mauve barrier, her gaze focused on her, piercing _cold_. “Or do you think I’ve forgotten about my Lamborghini?”

“First of all, I didn’t blow up your car. Second of all, I need a five-minute truce and for you to hear me out.” Avarice kept her voice dead-even. “Trust me, you’ll find this worth your time.”

Evelynn seemed more curious than believing, but she shifted her weight from one leg to the other and leaned against the nearest railing. “It better be.”

“There is someone I need you to kill for me.” Avarice stated.

Evelynn’s lips twitched. Then she let out a full-blown chuckle that had no right being nearly as beautiful as it was. “ _What_? Why would I _do_ that?”

“What you’ll get in return will overcompensate, I promise.” Fenrir didn’t blink.

“No.” Evelynn shrugged casually. “I pick my targets _very_ carefully. But even if I didn’t, the fact you need them dead so desperately you came to _me_ for it is an automatic no.”

The demoness was already turning to go. Avarice felt a vein pop up at her temple. “I get on your nerves, don’t I?” she asked. “So much for having everybody that you want –you’ll _never_ have me.”

Evelynn’s eyes flashed as she turned to her. “Bold words, Avarice.”

“See, my compliance is what you want. Your power is what I want. I am willing to sacrifice much for my goal. You won’t have to give up anything at all.” Fenrir shrugged. “If I could kill him myself, I would. But no power connected to life or death can harm the people I need dead. I think only you can.”

“You… aren’t even sure.” Evelynn commented slowly.

“No, but that doesn’t change anything for you.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“An Eternal Oath.” Forbidden magic that tied two individuals to a vow, from which there was no escape. The conditions had to be very strictly defined, but if both parties agreed to them, any slight deviation would result in peril. Not death, not a peaceful forever. Nothingness, the very destruction of the soul that broke its part of the pact. “Become my blade to cut what I ask you to cut. Kill who I point you to kill. And in return, I will give you anything you ask of me, with _very_ few restrictions.”

“Anything I want?” Golden eyes gleamed with greed.

“Anything you want.” Avarice assured.

She extended her palm, facing up. Evelynn grinned a killer’s grin as she placed hers on top. Fenrir whispered the incantation under her breath. Spectral un-light coiled around their hands, tying them together, an unbreakable chain.

“You must kill without mercy and without question anybody or anything I ask you to kill. In return, after every request of mine, you get one for yourself. It can be anything, provided you don’t touch or otherwise wound my eyes. You are not allowed to take my pendant under any circumstances. Do you agree to my terms?” Evelynn’s hand tightened to an almost painful grip over her own.

“You’re no fun, darling.” she stated darkly. “The phylactery is what I _want_.”

“Then you can have it, only after you end the last Founder of the Cult of Blood.” At that point, Avarice really didn't care what happened to her.

Evelynn smiled, pretty like a dream. “In that case, I can agree. Provided you keep the phylactery on you at _all_ times, from now on. You are not to remove it or give it to anyone else. And you cannot refuse or change my demands. Do you consent to my terms?”

“I do.” Avarice said coldly. "Let the pact be sealed."

The magic that bound them dug into their skin, deep underneath, embedded there like a brand on the soul. It burned like wildfire for all of two seconds. Then it dissipated, leaving only a faint pull behind.

Fenrir looked up, blue to searing gold. “This is the point where I warn you any deviation from our agreement will result in the destruction of everything you are. In a snap, you will be erased from this world like you never existed. There is a reason this is Forbidden magic.”

Evelynn laughed haughtily. “Darling, this is the point where I warn you this is going to _hurt_ a little bit.”

Avarice smirked, though no amusement reached her eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re not my first.”

A deadly smirk crossed moist, full lips. “Oh, but I will be your _last_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress, progress. I wanted to write this chapter so much and I couldn't wait to upload it. You guys are awesome, the support you show this pair means soo much to me and I love all of your inputs on this story! Whoever wants to write anything about them is more than welcome to, and I would love to read it (or fanart :D), so if you do please message me a link or something :)

**[Evelynn]**

_“There is someone I need you to kill for me.”_

Avarice’s words, that deadly, icy look in her eyes as she delivered them, played on repeat in her mind. Evelynn had to admit she underestimated just how deeply her shy girl was changed in the years of her captivity. Avarice, who couldn’t hurt a single ant if her career depended on it, now standing before her with a killer’s conviction and asking her to torture a person _for_ her.

Part of her found it amusing. Another, infuriating. Evelynn was vaguely aware she wanted Fenrir to regret the very second she bound her to an Eternal Oath. At the same time… she had so desperately wanted a challenge.

 _“I’ll contact you when I have the location.”_ Avarice had said, yet no sign of life came in the past three days. Evelynn was growing unbelievably bored of being kept waiting. _The nerve of this girl._

“Would you like another drink?” the man next to her at the bar, leaning close enough to get a good, not-so-subtle look at her décolletage, asked. Evelynn had been so lost in her musings she completely forgot about him. It was a good thing she had subconsciously kept the interested smile plastered on her face while he talked.

Usually, seducing humans was slightly more engaging for her. Sadly, after setting her gaze on the real prize, they all just seemed so _mundane_. A waste of time. It would be a waste of effort if it ever took any.

“I would like a lot more than that.” Evelynn answered smoothly, leisurely shifting on her stool towards her newest target—

Until the sound of her ringtone gave the hunger in his eyes pause. The disguised diva grit her teeth and reached into her bag, with the same elegance that colored all her movements. Like a candlefire bathed in water, Evelynn dropped all pretences of flirting upon a glance at the caller ID.

“Avarice~” she answered, drawing out the last syllable just to annoy the person on the other line. “I can’t talk right now.”

 _“Oh, is it a bad time?”_ the familiar voice of her ex-summoner tickled her ears.

“Yes, I’m a little busy.”

 _“Good. Listen.”_ Evelynn very pointedly rolled her eyes. _“I need you to meet me tonight. Eleven, at my house.”_

“Impossible. K/DA has a match.” she replied, completely turning her back to her earlier conquest at that point. “And no, I won’t ditch them because I can’t stand Ahri talking my ears off after.”

 _“Well, the ritual won’t exactly wait for you to finish strolling about the Rift’s jungle.”_ Avarice pressed, with that little growl in her voice that told Evelynn she succeeded in getting to her nerves. The demoness smiled.

“You can’t expect me to do everything, babe.”

 _“You don’t do_ anything _.”_ the summoner grit out.

“You want your timing right, make sure my match ends fast.” Yellow eyes gleamed at the opportunity.

 _“And how do you suggest I do that?”_ Avarice asked, utterly disinterested.

Dark lips curled sharply. “Be my summoner for tonight.”

…

Avarice was glaring and huffing the entire way through the backstage. Evelynn was walking ahead to meet her team, the very epitome of pride and self-satisfaction. She kept stealing glances at the summoner just to commit the fume coming out her ears to memory.

But K/DA’s looks the moment they joined them on the lineup were downright _precious_.

Akali’s jaw dropped open behind her mask, Kai’sa bit the inside of her cheek, Sona turned three different shades of worried and Ahri… Ahri just froze in time.

And then exploded. “What are you _doing_?!”

“Hello, team.” Evelynn grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I changed our roster a little bit, hope you don’t mind.”

“Are... you okay with this?” Akali asked Avarice.

Her gaze said _no_. But her lips were forced to manage a grouchy: “Yes.”

Evelynn casually slipped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. The familiarity of the gesture must have shocked Fenrir’s muscles to stillness for a moment. It earned the demoness a pair of warning, narrowed eyes, that left her entirely undeterred. If she could truly feel surprise, she’d marvel at how _easy_ it was to slip back into old habits. “Don’t worry, guys. Avarice and I had a long talk and decided it’s all water under the bridge.”

“We won’t make a habit of this.” Avarice said coolly to the rest of the team.

“We’ll see.” Evelynn tapped her claws against her collarbone, in a ‘never say never’ matter.

Ahri looked between them. Amber eyes warned her not to ask too much or read too deep into the situation. Some questions were better left unanswered. For the time being, the last-minute change would be massive for their views. The fans would go crazy –that was all K/DA should be focused on. The rest was her business. Hers alone.

Their theme song blared through the speakers across the gigantic stage. Hundreds of voices were cheering even before their team came into view.

“I am just now informed that there has been a last-minute change in the roster!” the host of the match exclaimed. “It will not be summoner Celion with Evelynn tonight…” Gasps came from the thousands of seats. “…but K/DA is running with the wolves! Let’s hear it for the duo that took the jungling world by storm, Evelynn and Fenrir!”

A volcanic eruption of noise.

The screams from the fans were so loud they could have shattered the glass around the dome.

Floodlights, millions of lenses, fell on them. Evelynn revelled in the cacophony, soaked it up like a queen bathing in milk and aromatics. _This_ was what she built for two years. _This_ was her kingdom. She should have had the cup at the shining dias of the World Stage to prove it, but the opportunities she thought long gone now spread out like a red carpet before her feet. The dream she was once forced to drown slowly resurfaced.

Even if when she couldn’t feel, Evelynn had always wanted.

She had always wanted _everything_.

She had always wanted to know what everything _felt_ like.

In Avarice’s eyes, she first recognized that possibility. She first caught its brilliant reflection. Clawed fingers dug into the girl’s bicep, almost to trap her by her side, so powerfully and so surely nothing could steal her away again. Blue looked up into gold.

_I will never let you slip away from me again._

…

Mud.

Everywhere she turned, there was slushy, slippery mud and the drizzle wasn’t doing her hair any favors. Lost in the vast forest outside Noxus, with only Avarice’s magical sight to guide them, Evelynn was coming down from the high of her earlier match rapidly. When the summoner told her they were going on a hunt –although hunting for anything wasn’t her style– she had pictured something a tad more thrilling.

No such luck.

“Are we there yet.” Evelynn huffed.

“Almost.”

“I’d maybe believe that if you hadn’t said the exact same thing half an hour ago, too.” the demoness glared under her wet fringe. The reward at the end was the only reason she put up with that much soil. But that didn’t mean she had to be patient about it.

“I told you we’re going to track them down, it’s not my fault you decided to wear five-inch _stilettos_.” Avarice bit back.

“I do everything in style.” It wasn’t like the shoes slowed her down that much. Evelynn only walked behind Fenrir because she chose to, not because she couldn’t keep up. Two powerful strides and she could slip right up to her –and the thought of making her jump was tempting indeed. It was getting boring watching the girl’s back for nearly an hour… but at least it was a nice back.

 _Very_ nice. 

Evelynn checked her out. Avarice had always been a cute wimp. Yet a three-year blink later she walked ahead of her with admittedly nicely toned shoulders, radiating intent to kill. _Is my good girl gone forever, though?_ The demoness was overcome with the need to find out. To open her up and drag out any old part of her that lingered there. To cut it out of her if she had to.

Avarice came to a sudden stop. “There.” she said, deep blue eyes locked ahead. Evelynn followed her gaze, but there were only more trees to see. She opened her mouth to ask what the summoner was talking about, but Fenrir’s neutral visage twisted like a snarling wolf’s. Hate rolled off her in tidal waves. Utter disgust. “Get ready.” her voice came out hollow, distorted.

Marks broke out across her body, a pathway of lines and runes. Her eyes turned iridescent, stark blue in a sea of black. Jagged marks that looked like scars ran down and across them. A lich in all its glory, its dark nature fully embraced for what was to come.

Then she was gone. Dashed forward with speed to nearly match Evelynn’s own, a bound katana and chains in her grasp. The demoness engulfed herself in shadow as she followed.

She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t witnessed it for herself. How easily Avarice cut cultists down. How little she hesitated, so slightly human eyes couldn’t see, before she directed her weapons to sever another thread of life. With all that blood on her…

She looked like a demon.

A monster; every bit the mythical wolf she was named after, with the insatiable hunger to rend that would eventually lead it to swallow the sun itself. 

Evelynn leaned back against a tree, camouflaged in her shadows. Observed. She couldn’t tell why the image was so terribly _wrong_ to her eyes. Everything about new Avarice was off, what was one more thing to add to the list? And yet. It bothered her.

_Is anything left of you?_

“Snake! I know you’re around here! Come out for round two!” the summoner yelled into the night.

At first, nothing happened. But slowly… space broke apart and distorted. A black portal opened, from which a masked, hooded figure emerged. There was something different in his aura. Evelynn had never before tasted something so... acidic, from a human. Like a barrier of foul smoke and ashes, woven into his skin. Under his skin.

Avarice’s raging emotions magnified at the sight of him. _Is he the one who tortured you? Or just one of them?_

“Catch me if you can.” he laughed. He laughed like he was invulnerable, but Evelynn smirked to herself.

The Snake flashed for the woods. Avarice was on his trail, focused on him so completely Evelynn was sure she’d chase him across Valoran if she had to. But since she really didn’t have all night, the demoness decided to speed the process up a little. She was itching to get her request, after all.

Evelynn used her superior speed to get ahead of the pair, sending a single spike at the tree branch the man was about to land on to take his next leap. It cracked at just the right time to throw him off balance –and Avarice was not one to let openings slip by.

Her spectral chain wrapped around his foot, dragging him down into a crash on the ground. Avarice tied it around his free leg and neck before he could react, using her sword to trap the chain and by extension the rest of him, there.

Again, the Snake only laughed. “You got me through sheer luck. But what will you do now? You cannot harm me. I can sit here until you run out of energy enough for me to overpower these bonds.”

Avarice stared him down. She took a step back, then another. The look in her eyes was torn between cathartic vengeance and appalment. “He’s all yours.” she said.

Evelynn’s laugh echoed in the air as she stepped out of her camouflage. She took great pleasure in the way his eyes widened under his mask, all mirth evaporated from them like water droplets over a fire. He’d be one of her least tasty meals, of that she had no doubt. But the demoness couldn’t wait to torture the life out of him for an entirely different reason.

Avarice walked away. The further she went, the harder the Snake shook.

“And now it’s just us.” Evelynn smiled, stalking around him. “I hear from Avarice you guys are fans.”

“P-please. Forgive me.” he stuttered. “We never meant to offend you, great demon—”

“Shh.” Evelynn cooed, laying her hands on his shoulders from behind. She leaned closer, dropping her voice low. “You never meant to offend me?” she asked. “You took her from me and showed her what I am. You tortured what was _mine_ to have. Did you really think… I would let it go?” Claws dug deep and pressed _down_. Bones snapped like twigs under the pressure.

Screams graced the night, filling an empty part of her.

Evelynn slipped around to his front. “Wanna know a secret?” her voice was barely a throaty whisper by that point. “I was going to kill you whether Avarice asked me to or not –but _shh_. Don’t tell her that. It’s _far_ more interesting the way things turned out.”

 _Now I get anything I want in return for something I’d do anyways._ The Agony’s Embrace chuckled deeply.

“You will see it… in time.” he croaked through clenched teeth. “The Cult… serves you. This is...the will of our God.”

“Well, hold onto him, now.” Evelynn rose, flexing her claws. “You’ll be counting every centimeter of your intestines before you go meet him.”

…

Far away, far enough so that she wouldn’t have to hear, Avarice was pacing. Evelynn walked up to her in her human form, clean of blood and gore. The summoner’s body was so tense it was a wonder she hadn’t pulled a muscle already. The demoness was about to make a flirty suggestion about helping her relax, but the girl beat her to speaking.

“Is it done?” The way the big, bad wolf asked that was reminiscent of a wounded puppy.

“It’s done.” Evelynn smirked charmingly at her. “Now get us out of this humid hell.”

For once, Avarice did as she was told. She wordlessly channelled the teleport spell, touching Evelynn’s shoulder to transport them to whatever destination she had in mind.

At night, the park they had taken their Eternal Oath in seemed very different. Quiet, quaint, with soft lamps and night-blooming flowers all around that gave the place a much more intimate aroma than daylight did. Avarice took a step back from her, looking everywhere but her eyes. Evelynn didn’t have to be fluent at reading emotions to know she was anxious about what came next.

She hid it well, but she was worried. Stressing.

Afraid.

Evelynn leaned back against the iron railing, simply looking at her.

“So… do you know what you want now, or…” she gestured, trailed off.

 _How curious._ The demoness thought. So different from what she used to be and yet… that subtle movement with her hands reminded her of an Avarice she thought long gone.

“I know what I want.” Evelynn smirked at her, loving the power she held in that moment. Power over her. Power to do _whatever_ she wanted.

And she wanted to do so _many_ things…

But.

“Kiss me.” she demanded, surprising even herself.

Avarice blinked. Fixed her with a stare like she may as well have asked her to kill her best friend’s dog. Lines creased her brow, her mouth opened in a breath, but no sound came out. Evelynn was wondering why she would waste her wish on something as meaningless as a kiss herself, yet after seeing that reaction, it was starting to seem like a brilliant idea. She would have many opportunities to get what she wanted. Half the pleasure was longing for it.

Perhaps it was her very recent feeding, but she wanted to see Avarice struggle with something other than agony in that moment. 

“What.” Fenrir asked.

“You said anything I want. I want you to kiss me.” Evelynn couldn’t contain her smirk as she emphasized the words slowly. Avarice’s eyes asked _but why_. “You said it yourself, I wouldn’t be your first.” the Champion grinned. _But now I will be._

Avarice’s deep blue eyes narrowed. “No tricks. No extra. Just one kiss –that’s your request.”

“Yes, but make it count. Don’t peck me like we’re middle school and waste my request because you’ll piss me off.” Evelynn warned, kept her hands on the railing. She refused to make it any easier for Avarice by initiating contact between them.

Fenrir rolled her eyes, but she came closer. Careful, like walking through a minefield. For the briefest of moments, the time it took a hummingbird to bat its wings, her stony expression shifted into an embarrassed, soft look, taken straight out of the past. It was erased as soon as it crossed her pretty features, yet not from Evelynn’s mind.

Cool hands came to rest on the railing, between her body and her own. The demoness never took her eyes off the twin seas that drew ever nearer. She told herself she wasn’t expecting anything out of it. That the faint echo reverberating through her was Avarice’s uneasiness, not her own. _It won’t feel like anything, anyway. Nothing at all._

_Nothing—_

Soft lips pressed over hers, effectively silencing those thoughts. A part of her she had no name for paused, then gave, like ice gradually melting into the ocean. Evelynn’s true essence expanded within her fabricated body, searching for more of that peculiar warmth. It was nothing like the fire of her feedings, that she had associated with pleasure. But it was _something_ and that unnerved her.

Avarice’s tongue traced the edge of her lower lip as cautiously as licking a serrated knife. Evelynn was trying to make sense of too many things at once to take the lead, but she was passively enjoying herself.

Until.

Her hand subconsciously reached up to rest on Fenrir’s taut stomach –and the summoner suddenly hurried to pull away. The touch was like the feather that broke the camel’s back, the final push that cracked the dam… and Avarice’s emotions crashed into her at once, some too hot and others too cold. She was flustered and hurt, wanted but hated it, she was afraid of her, yet _terrified_ to desire her.

Evelynn wasn’t ready to let go of this new sensation just yet, though. Long fingers closed around the girl’s chin before she could disentangle their forms completely, crashing her lips back over her own. The demoness wasted no time before she licked into her mouth, insistent, demanding _more_.

She turned them around and shoved Avarice back, so she was trapped against her and the metal. Her free hand came to grip the back of her neck –and their liplock would end when _she_ decided it.

She moaned at the empowering feeling.

Evelynn couldn’t pinpoint what, exactly, made it so _good_.

She only knew for certain she wanted to make Avarice drip and burn with arousal she couldn’t deny, couldn’t lie to herself about when it kept her awake at night.

The demoness smirked against her lips when she slipped a thigh between her summoner’s legs and pushed _up_ –and Avarice, through great effort and willpower, finally shoved her off.

Her chest heaved, the soft-glowing pendant there moving hypnotically with the motions. Her lips had Evelynn’s lipstick smeared on like a mark. The Agony’s Embrace laughed at her accusatory look, at how hard she tried to supress her body’s cravings.

“So, was it everything you imagined?” Evelynn teased, wiping at the lipstick smudge under the girl’s lip with her thumb.

Avarice pulled her chin back distastefully. She wiped at the spot herself. “That wasn’t _one_ fucking kiss.” her eyes blazed so wonderfully.

“Well… it’s _my_ definition of it.” Evelynn smirked. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

“Yeah I _loved_ the way you threw yourself on me and the grip I couldn’t break from.” Avarice’s voice turned flat with sarcasm. The demoness leaned back and laughed. “And what the hell is so funny?” 

Evelynn _tsk’ed_ , leaning into her personal space, back into the plume of crinum and expensive hair lotion that was still very much her own trademark left on the summoner. She dipped her voice low, sensual, like sharing the world’s most intimate secret. “Darling, I didn’t use _any_ power to hold you against me. So why didn’t you pull away, hm?”

Avarice looked at her in disbelief.

Evelynn merely kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed them to her cheek in farewell. “Food for thought, love.” And with a wink, she was gone.

…

An indefinite amount of time later, the demoness kicked off her heels and hummed her way across the living room of her mansion, towards her queen-sized bath. The scalding-hot water enveloped her flawless form as she slipped in it, laying her head back on the silver and marble of the edge. Steam rose up from the surface. And yet, Evelynn only imagined the temperature, rather than actually registered it on her person.

It was only during torture that she felt it, anything resembling heat, a sharp spike of it on her abdomen rising up. _So why,_ she wondered, _should it feel warm to touch you?_

Yellow eyes closed in the dark.

Evelynn let herself sink under the water completely. The pressure was nice, for as long as she could experience it.

But the void was already crawling back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thots-- *ahem* thoughts? ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**[Avarice]**

Avarice entered the cafeteria like a woman climbing the steps to a guillotine.

Her gaze was fixed forward, steps even and calculated all the way to the freshly-stocked counter. The middle-aged woman there smiled brightly at her as she took her order, but the summoner only managed a thin-lipped grimace in return. Because if her head turned just a little to either direction other than straight ahead…

On her far left, she could feel Evelynn’s piercing gaze on her like a plume of hot, weighted air. She was fairly certain the rest of K/DA were stealing glances at her under their cups. On her right, Vayne and Soraka were alternating between glaring at the demoness and looking her up and down for any obvious signs of harm. Several summoner groups all around were whispering about her, whether last night’s match with a certain diva meant she’d be back to her old main, what that could mean for their teams or hopes for a contract with Evelynn.

And Avarice… was _very_ uncomfortable.

She had never exactly revelled being the center of attention, even when she hadn’t exactly minded it by Evelynn’s side. People’s looks just _got_ to her and—

A heavy, clawed hand slammed on top of the counter next to her own, shaking nearly everything on it. Avarice jumped, eyes wide as they met a fiery pair. Warwick leaned down to her level, the fur at his forehead furrowed in a frown.

“What did she blackmail you with?” his gruff voice came accented by a deep rumble.

“Um.” Avarice quickly accepted her cup and pulled him along to an empty table, at a far corner. “It’s not what it looks like.” she began.

“So you didn’t wreck that team yesterday with Evelynn.” Warwick’s ears tilted forward. He gave her a flat look.

“Okay, so it may be what it looks like. Sort of.” Avarice conceded. “But _I_ went to _her_. Not the other way around.”

“…Do you have a death wish?”

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” Fenrir growled in annoyance. She took a breath, during which a cold calm settled over her features. “Don’t judge me for what I have to do to achieve my goals. Out of everyone here, you should understand me the most.”

Warwick regarded her with a grave look. “Are those goals worth trading your blood and dignity for?”

“My _everything_.” Avarice replied without pause, without doubt or thought.

The wolf’s ears stood in attention, then fell in defeat. Perhaps that was the moment he realized that she couldn’t be rescued, that he couldn’t rescue her. Just like nobody had been able to extricate him from Singed’s claws before it was far too late, before his body had been mutilated and broken in a thousand horrid ways. Her appearance fooled people, it fooled even him, that she wasn’t at that stage yet, that there was still something to be done. Sadly, Avarice knew, her fate had been sealed the moment they tore her soul out of her body.

The marks on her, unseen, ran too deep to heal.

She was past the point of saving. Past caring to be saved.

She’d like to claim she made a deal with a demon for the good of the world, something akin to a noble sacrifice. But the ugly truth was always there to stare her in the face: she only did it for herself.

 _Deep down_ , a dark part of her spoke. _You love the fact they get to taste the torture they inflicted on you before they die. Deep down…_

_…You’re more like Evelynn than you realize._

…

The night was young, filled with a sky of stars and myriads of city lights gleaming through the dark. Ocean-colored eyes admired the delicate harmony of their surroundings, the way the earth itself seemed to breathe, slow and steady, in perfect sync with the cosmos.

And then. An unnatural darkness twisted the calm. It was only for a moment, but Avarice’s vision flashed with black tendrils.

“You’re early.” she said over her shoulder.

A disappointed huff came from her company. Evelynn emerged from her satin cocoon of shadows, in her deceptively gorgeous, human form. “Oh, honey, I missed you too.”

“That makes one of us.” Avarice rolled her eyes as the sound of heels came closer. Evelynn leaned on the railing next to her, her hands crossed over it like a very bored, spoiled cat. The summoner’s instincts automatically kicked into overdrive, overanalysing every move from the living danger next to her, but the demoness merely blinked slow and cast her gaze far into the horizon.

“Don’t be so tense.” her deep, smooth voice said, like a caress over Avarice’s ear. A warm hand, absent claws, laid atop her bicep, manicured nails digging slightly into the fabric of her black jacket. Fenrir wanted to shake her off, because she wasn’t allowed, her touch wasn’t _allowed_ to not cause prickles of pain, unpleasant chills and a brief panic attack like everyone else’s did. In the end, she didn’t move a muscle.

And she didn’t want it, how her eyes kept being drawn to the way Evelynn’s classy earrings moved with the gentle breeze against her moonlight-pale skin, or the elegant slope of her jawline, or those succulent lips, whose mere image—

 _Don’t_. 

“It’s always there, isn’t it.” Evelynn said out of the blue, to which Avarice only frowned. “There are times this dark mist around you blocks your emotions from me, but the first thing I always taste is that underlying pain.” 

Avarice scoffed. Tried to play it off. “Figures you’d be into that.”

Evelynn threw her head back in a laugh. “No, actually. It’s not pain I caused. And it’s so… bitter. Acidic. It’s eating you up.” Those yellow eyes turned to her, stripping her bare. Fenrir used up all her willpower just to hold that gaze. “I can help you.”

“No, thanks.” Avarice forced a fleeting smirk.

“I know touch triggers you.” Evelynn continued, turning to face her fully, the hand still on her bicep moving up to her jawline. Warm fingers pressed just over the edge of her high-neck top, like a whisper against her skin. “You’ve associated it with suffering. I can change that.” she dropped her voice lower, like a promise. Sounded so genuine, Avarice almost wanted to be fooled into believing it.

Almost.

“Yeah?” she asked, softening her look only for a moment.

“Yes, darling. Everything with me will feel so, so… _good_.” Evelynn leaned closer in a sensual coo. Something like hot air, like invisible smoke, a caress dripping with vows of pleasure, coiled around the summoner’s limbs, even in places the demoness didn’t touch.

Chilly fingers snatched Evelynn’s wrist into a vice grip.

Avarice’s gaze spit cold fires. “ _Don’t_ expect me to fall for your shit. Save the charm for someone who cares.”

Evelynn dropped her hand back to her side, giggling in that echoing, sinister way of hers. The way that betrayed her true nature, past the honeyed words and alluring smiles.

She backed out of her personal space. “You’re _so_ fun.” Perfect rows of teeth glimmered in the dark. Avarice could easily imagine fangs where they were currently blunt. “And so jadedly distrustful. What did they do to you do make you this way?” She asked with something like true interest.

Avarice glared at her, then checked her watch. It was time. “Guess you’ll never know.”

“You _will_ tell me if I wish it.” Evelynn stated.

Avarice smirked, uncharacteristically arrogant. Equal parts certain of her next words and challenging. “You won’t waste your wish to find out what happened to me.”

The Agony’s Embrace regarded her silently.

Then, they were off on their hunt.

…

It was a good thing lichdom came with a massive boost in stamina. Avarice kept her eyes fixed on the swirling red corruption in the distance as she climbed up the steep mountain path. _Is this unholy beam getting stronger every time, or am I imagining things?_

“Can’t you just like. Teleport us to the top?” Evelynn asked, sounding two steps beyond ‘bored to death’. It had been a wonder Avarice was spared her complaining for this long, but she should’ve known good things didn’t last.

“No because the teleport spell takes _far_ too much energy to be worth it and they may sense us.” she replied. The demoness only huffed and used her lashers to lift herself up the rest of the way.

At the top of the mountain stood a conflux of caves. Avarice’s eyes could clearly follow the path of the putrid energy, but her body froze at the entrance to darkness. She felt the tell-tale pinpricks break out across her skin, the pounding on her temples like she was getting beaten with a hammer. _Not now…_ she willed herself utterly still, but inside she was shaking.

Memories flooded her mind. Of her screaming, afraid and alone in a cave much like this one, crying out for help until her throat was hoarse. Getting stabbed over and over with a ceremonial blade, offered up as a sacrifice to a nightmare—

_"Prepare her eyes.”_

“Avarice.” Evelynn grabbed her forearm, a little too forcefully. Fenrir was afraid to look into her eyes, to see whether she _knew_. “I asked, which way.”

“Left.” was all she managed to say.

The demoness casually pulled her along, her dark nails a constant pressure against her skin. It shouldn’t be comforting. It shouldn’t. Avarice locked her jaw and tried to push past the thoughts boiling and bubbling out of the depths of her, that _none of this would have happened if you were there. If you cared for me half as much as I—!_

 _Stop_.

The stale air of the cave was getting to her, although breathing wasn’t a necessity. Being enclosed, _trapped_ , with Evelynn and the very monsters that ruined her was getting to her. Everything was pushing against her mental shields, closing in and she just wanted it to be _over_.

Then she heard it.

 _“Hear our prayers, oh great Lord.”_ She recognized that voice.

Avarice could match it with another horrible mask, that of a skeletal-like bat. The same one that had bled them all dry, that had cut into her skin over and over, a pathway of lines forever visible in her true form. She could mask them from the world all she wanted, but to Avarice’s own eyes –and perhaps that was what she hated about them the most— they were always there.

Evelynn had shifted into a mass of shadow beside her.

“The one with the mask?” her demonic voice came from nowhere yet everywhere at once.

Avarice nodded. She was about to release the seal keeping her lich form at bay when— a hand, gloved in smoke, held her back. 

“No need, honey. Just observe.”

And Evelynn was suddenly phasing right in the middle of the cultists’ circle. For a moment, just a moment, pure glee emanated from the chanters, probably thinking their God had answered their prayers. Then, in the blink of an eye –the walls were painted red.

Bodies fell like lifeless, torn marionettes. Avarice’s eyes widened. She had no idea Evelynn’s lashers could sweep that far, nor had she been that explosively fast before. Because if she had, then that wasn’t a speed Fenrir would ever be able to match, let alone pin her to a damn wall...

_Was she holding back with me?_

The Bat shook before Evelynn’s revealed form. Avarice stared at him from her elevated space, jaw locked tight. She had no intention of sitting through his torture session, so she turned to leave. The movement caught his eye, turned his attention to her. 

“Avarice, how gracious of you to deliver her to us.”

She froze at his words, gears turning restlessly in her mind. _No, he’s just playing with you. Don’t listen._

“The time is near, can you _see_?” he asked, equal parts awe and terror in his voice. Just like when she and the rest of the victims had spoken to him and received only maddening silence in return however… Fenrir did not speak. Did not turn. Instead, she began walking away. It was that which seemed to set him off. “I know you can! It’s what we ripped your eyes out for—”

A gut-wrenching scream echoed across every nook and cranny in the cave system.

Avarice nearly halted again, but pushed herself forward, _out_ , despite every tiny hair in her body standing on end. She didn’t want to know, but she was certain Evelynn had done to him exactly what was done to her.

 _Fitting_. A part of her thought.

_…_

Outside, the clouds had cleared enough for faint moonlight to reach the earth. Avarice waited… and waited. It could have been an hour, or several, before Evelynn emerged, no sign of blood on her stylish clothes.

She stretched, looking wonderfully revitalized. Every part of her was glowing, like she just had a great sleep… or a _very_ satisfying night. The summoner pushed _that_ particular thought far into the depths of her mind.

Avarice stood from the log she had been resting on. “Where do you want me to teleport you—” she began, but Evelynn spoke faster.

“I want to know what happened to you.”

Fenrir’s jaw clamped shut. “Okay but—”

“Now.” The demoness said. Avarice wondered what the Bat could have possibly said to make Evelynn this insistent on finding out about her. Perhaps nothing at all, perhaps everything. She’d always asked, but to waste a wish on it, Avarice never thought she’d go that far.

She should be glad her own torture session was postponed for another kill. Then again, talking about the past three years was torture of its own. She thought about denying the request –and the Eternal Oath sealed beneath her skin _burned_. It was a warning and she had to heed it if she wanted to continue existing.

Avarice took a deep, steadying breath.

“I can show you.” she said, extending her palm for Evelynn to take.

The second she did…

It was like they were back on that day, watching everything unfold without any power to do more than look.

_After Avarice had left the club, somewhere between there and her home, a needle was pushed into her skin. She flinched away from the attacker, tried to fight him off, but whatever he inserted her with sealed her magic away. The man had a crazed look in his eyes, like a drooling, starving beast. It was the last thing she saw before she awoke, bound, inside a cell filled with other people, all equally terrified._

_They weren’t left conscious for long enough to bond over it. The one with the snake mask came in at regular intervals, shoving more drugs into their veins. Avarice wasn’t aware what was happening to her, but she woke in different places, always with less people._

_It had been a chilling realization, the few seconds she was allowed to think between doses, that they were killing them off. One by one. That her turn was coming._

_When they first took her for their ritual, she thought that was the end of her. Alas, fate was not quite so merciful. Instead her arms and legs were strapped to a table and blades cut into her skin, all accompanied by that awful chanting, echoing through her mind for long after it was over._

_For some reason, the drug started being less effective on a few of them. Their names were Egon, Vakrys, Erithel, Xaria, Idris and Arian. Avarice held onto them to maintain her sanity in-between rituals. They, in turn, looked to her to preserve their own._

_Avarice lost track of days and nights, of months. It was all meaningless, for someone awaiting to be murdered as an offering. But she knew, if she broke, the rest of them would, too. It was the only thing that kept her going._

_She started to tell the passage of time by the scars on her body. It had been a year, or more than one, but she didn’t want to tell the others that. She prayed, but nobody was coming to save them. She didn’t tell them that, either._

_People died during rituals, like animals slaughtered. The cultists killed so many, yet they kept the seven of them alive. Avarice decided to stop crying and start shouting, instead._

_“Why haven’t you killed us yet, you monsters?!”_

_“The weak perish. The strong survive.” The man who had first drugged her laughed manically. He was sporting a new mask, the visage of a Boar. “_ Only _the strong survive.”_

Avarice was almost surprised Evelynn remained by her side the entire time, watching, still as a statue and twice as silent. She would have thought the demoness would appreciate moving around the memory, getting a closer look at exactly how deep they cut her each time.

“It was such a stupid thing I did, demanding answers.” Avarice let out a hollow laugh. “If I hadn’t, maybe I would be dead right now. And not… this.” she gestured to her pendant, eyes cast downwards. “If I’d only accepted defeat. If I _let_ them break me.”

_There was no end to it. And the others were starting to lose it. Crying at nothing. Whimpering at shadows. Avarice tried to talk to them, to keep them with her, but they were slipping._

_Then one day, they brought them all into the ritual, together. The six were strapped to pillars, while Avarice was once again forced onto the dias at the middle of the room._

_A hot knife was drawn across her abdomen. It burned like nothing she had ever experienced before. She had thought then she would die. Half of her desperately wished to. Yet the other half clawed for its right to live._

_The Boar laughed, that same mad cackle etched into her ears. The Bat loomed silently at the edge of her vision. There were others –they were all of them, prepared for something big._

_“Look at this one. Look at her will to survive.” The Leader’s mask gleamed in the dark, a faceless white. “Remarkable. She may just be the one we’re looking for.”_

_And then…_

_“Prepare her eyes.”_

_She screamed for all the gods she knew, but none of them came._ _Then she called for something else._

_“Evelynn! Evelynn help me!”_

She was looking at her. Avarice could always feel her gaze, but it wasn’t often she lacked the strength to meet it. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, because she didn’t want to see what came next. It haunted her in her nightmares as it was. She shouldn’t have to see it when she was awake, too.

“The ritual requires powerful souls, closely tied to the one trying to attain lichdom. Technically, it also needs one’s permission and desire –but apparently, just wishing to _live_ counts.” Avarice explained. “We weren’t really immune to the drug. They _wanted_ us to grow close.”

“So they could die for you.” Evelynn stated.

“So they could become my blades.” Avarice said, summoning her arsenal of spectral weapons around her. Egon, her longsword. Vakrys, her barbed chains. Erithel, her katana. Xaria, the katar, Idris the battleaxe and Arian, the spear _._ “And I, in turn, the cult’s weapon.” They were dismissed with a thought. “You can guess what happened next. They held the phylactery and gave the orders. For the next year, I killed people _for_ them.”

“How did you escape?” Evelynn asked, shifting slightly.

“The Boar fucked up.” Avarice replied. “He got into a fight with a newbie and the other guy shoved him. The pendant was in the air for less than a second –but in that second, any previous order I had to never reach for it became null. I snatched it –and killed all of them.”

“Apparently a mask doesn’t equal unkillable, does it.” Evelynn shrugged.

“There is a distinction between Seniors and Founders. All the former are dead by my hand… but I had no idea about the latter until I faced one.”

“I see.” Evelynn nodded, uncharacteristically expressionless. “One last thing; what is it they want from your eyes?” Amber orbs looked deep into hers, searching. Hungrier than they had seemed all evening, but this time for answers.

 _What did he tell you?_ Avarice was burning to know.

There was a side of her that wanted to talk about it, to someone, to _anyone_ , just to share the weight. A side that needed protection and comfort just like she once did. Perhaps the leftovers of that girl, who was weak yet refused to break. Perhaps the side that never truly let go of what it felt for Evelynn.

But as much as she wanted that…

The rest of her was smarter. She could not expect to find solace in a demon, no matter how attractive the shell. In something whose very essence was so _close_ to what Avarice was fighting to prevent. In something the cult worshipped alongside that terror. _What if it’s all just… more sick plans. More tricks?_

_What if I’m still playing right into their hand?_

There was no one in the world she could trust with the truth. Once again… she was alone.

“Tell me.” Evelynn pressed. “What is it that only _you_ can see?”

Avarice fixed her with a cold, emotionless stare. “I don’t know. Because the world I see… is hell.”

And in a way, it was. There was no beauty in a grey world, past colors and pretty exteriors, right down to the very fabric of everything. There was no night, no day, no sun or moon or stars. There was endless magic, defining the shape of objects, peering into the heart of people. There were scars left upon the earth by a war that took place ages ago, when humans slaughtered their own for power.

And the only thing that could be seen clearly… was the location of the fragments of Runes, scattered and buried but not erased, still able to bring upon them a calamity.

What Avarice saw was a disaster waiting to happen. Blood waiting to be spilled in rivers. Families waiting to be torn apart. All for the power of such things, that should never have existed in the first place. A mistake of the Gods.

A world of suffering.

A world without hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, Avarice's tragic story that shaped her into who she is now. Our girl is wounded and just needs a hug (or several). And if you want to picture her spectral weapons, think something along the lines of Aphelios' guns, except glowing dark. 
> 
> Love you guys! ^.^


	10. Chapter 10

**[Evelynn]**

_“Her eyes are… the cult’s offering to you… Great Demon.”_

_“The world I see is hell.”_

Evelynn tapped her nails on the arm of the couch impatiently. _Why does everything about this girl have to be such an enigma?_ She supposedly had the answers she’d wanted since the day Avarice disappeared, but oddly enough it still seemed like she was in the dark. She learned everything about the summoner… and yet felt like she’d barely scratched the surface. Merely stripped a dozen out of the thousand layers of secrets she was made of. And Evelynn wanted to own _all_ of her.

But was she truly worth the trouble? That was the billion-gold question.

She was a challenge, fun to tease, eye-candy. The demoness certainly wasn’t bored anymore, with her around. Yet she was also a massive energy cost and time investment that Evelynn quite often wondered if she could even afford. The cultists she tortured as part of their deal offered too little in way of sustenance; it was disgusting, really, how part of them was _honored_ to die by her claws. They tasted like ash, like stagnant water and too much faith –they barely lasted her two days.

Evelynn wondered what Avarice would think if she knew their hunts left her hungry and depleted far quicker than she normally would be. If she knew just how many people she had to kill, afterwards, to be lively and powerful again.

Long, slender fingers idly played with the tiny crystal pendant around her neck. She remembered gifting it to a pretty, naïve girl once, simultaneously setting the limitation on herself never to harm her—

A weight suddenly crashed next to her.

Evelynn realized she hadn’t noticed Akali approach the couch or vault over the back, but there she was, staring at her in the way she always did when she wanted something.

“Is it dating advice?” the diva asked, to which the ninja leaned back with a near-mortified look on her face.

“I do not _need_ dating advice.” she stated.

“Lies.” Ahri called from somewhere in the kitchen.

It was semi-true. Akali’s rogue-charm worked great… on all the people she _wasn’t_ interested in. As soon as someone who truly caught her eye showed up, it evaporated so quickly Evelynn wondered how that was even possible.

“But something bothers you.” Evelynn commented.

“Stop reading my emotions.” A flat look was sent her way. It reminded the demoness of someone equally stubborn.

“I’m reading your _face_.” Evelynn flicked her on the forehead.

“Is it the results on that poll?” Ahri teased with a laugh, emerging from the other room along with Kai’sa.

“What poll?” Evelynn asked, looking between Akali’s frown and Ahri’s knowing smirk, intrigued.

“The ‘choose your assassin’ poll?” Ahri said like it was common knowledge. “It’s just one of these fun, stupid little things the League does for views, at times. People had to vote for which assassin they’d essentially bang. And, well. Our girl here came second to Katarina Du Couteau.”

“Whose lead was _considerable_.” Kai’sa added. Evelynn’s mouth quirked in a sly smirk. She instantly looked up the results. Indeed, Katarina and Akali led by a huge difference, Zed and Talon tied for third place, Kayn closely behind.

“Eve, have you been living under a rock these days?” Ahri asked. Normally, the siren was the first to be informed of such things. And mercilessly tease over them.

 _Too busy feeding to stay up and kicking._ She thought but chose not to say.

“Someone keeping you busy?” Kai’sa smiled.

“In mountains rather the bedroom –and I mean _literally_ hiking, not being kinky.” Evelynn replied shamelessly, watching the red hue climb from Kai’sa’s cheeks all the way to her ears. Before they could ask any further questions, she shifted her focus to Akali. “So, I see your rivalry with Katarina is still ongoing.”

“She gets on my nerves.” Akali grumbled. The demoness nodded and mentally counted the seconds before… the explosion. “ _How_ can people think being that _fucking_ arrogant is hot?! ‘Oh look at me, I can diss everyone and everything but it only adds to my popularity! Also, blood for Noxus!’” the rogue imitated a very Katarina-esque voice.

“Look, honey.” Evelynn placed a hand on Akali’s shoulder. “People are actually very stupid. It doesn’t matter _what_ you say if you have her swagger, her looks and her money.” she explained. “Now, to be fully honest, you and Katarina are actually very similar.” Dark eyes widened in alarm. “You both look like you can get it. And that’s hot by default.” Ahri nodded her approval. “The difference is…” And that was why she won the poll, “…she can _actually_ get it.”

Kai’sa and Ahri giggled. The rogue’s jaw dropped to the floor. A protest was at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down, sending a glare towards the other two band members. “Don’t tell me you guys agree with this. Kai’sa, back me up here.”

“No, no of course not.” Kai’sa shook her head. She was an abysmal liar.

“And anyway, I _just_ wanted to ask what we’re wearing and who we’re bringing to the festival tonight.” Akali threw her hands up like asking for a truce.

The Solstice festival. Yes. The one where they’d be singing for charity _again_. The one Evelynn had forgotten absolutely everything about. The one she technically had to bring a summoner as an escort to. League freaking rules. _Crap._

_Who do I call on such a short notice?_

…

The other line rang for all of five seconds.

 _“What.”_ Avarice grumbled into the speaker.

“Hi, love~” Evelynn husked back. She stood leaning against her flashy, new purple Bugatti, parked right underneath the GrandMaster dorms, to which Avarice had moved to, a couple of days ago. Summoners all around the entrance had frozen at sight of her and then proceeded to take pictures, whispering amongst themselves who was so goddamn lucky that she was there for.

 _“What do you want? A call from you is never good.”_ Fenrir said.

“I was wondering if you would accompany me to the Solstice festival this evening. You get a VIP seat to my concert. And VIP treatment later…” she dipped her voice low, suggestive, smirking inwardly as she pictured Avarice’s reaction.

 _“Thanks, but no thanks.”_ the summoner retorted. _“’Night.”_

“Wait. Look out your window.” Evelynn said before she could hang up.

Avarice huffed but complied. The demoness took great pleasure in the second a certain curtain was pushed aside and the summoner’s face came into view. Eyes wide like a fish, jaw agape and panic quickly setting in...

 _“Are you insane?! What are you doing here?”_ came the demand.

“Waiting for my date. Oh, and the longer you stall the more gossip will spread about us.” Evelynn chuckled. “Don’t make me serenade you and give them material to talk about us for _weeks_.” It helped that Avarice’s weak spots concerning her image hadn’t changed. It helped even more that the demoness knew _all_ of them.

Fenrir climbed down the stairs so fast she may as well have flashed. Evelynn giggled to herself as the girl ducked her head away from the snapping cameras and stares. As soon as she approached her, seeking refuge in the safety of her car, Evelynn pulled her into a one-armed hug just to be extra.

“You’re gonna pay for this.” Avarice growled. It shouldn’t be as hot as it was.

The demoness simply laughed in her ear.

Fume was coming out of Fenrir in the passenger seat by the time Evelynn drove out of the main gate. People would die to be where she was, inside a luxurious Bugatti, beside the sexiest woman on Runeterra, but _of course_ her summoner was radiating discomfort.

“I hope you realize I’m not dressed to go to a darn festival.” the girl said.

Evelynn took her eyes off the road to give her a good once-over. She looked delectable even in a casual shirt and dark jeans, but her date had to show up fancy like herself, clad in designer brands. A stop to a high-end clothing store was in order. _Just like the old times._ The demoness thought.

The owner of the shop came rushing out to greet them as soon as Evelynn’s car came to a stop. The man all but bowed before them –and before the gold they were about to spend. The diva motioned that they wouldn’t need his assistance as she picked a pair of form-fitting pants, an ash-grey button-up and a leather jacket and shoved them onto Avarice’s arms.

“I’m more than a little worried that you know my _exact_ measurements.” Ocean eyes narrowed.

Evelynn feigned innocence until Avarice was in the changing room. She leaned against the thin wood separating them, picturing taut lines carved on bare skin. _Tempting_. “Need help in there?”

“Don’t even _think_ about it.” Came accompanied by the sound of a zipper.

“Because, you know, we have _just_ enough time for a qui—”

“ _No_.” Avarice pushed past the curtain and past her, slightly flustered and trying to hide it. Evelynn smiled at the small victory. 

Upon leaving, she was so gracious as to hold the passenger door open for the summoner, but, unsurprisingly, she didn’t seem at all wooed. The demoness slid into the driver’s seat with a deep sigh.

“You know, this doesn’t have to be a chore.” she said, shifting her body, her full attention, towards her company. “You used to love being with me. I know it, I could _taste_ it.”

 _You used to love_ me _._

“I’m not who I used to be.” Avarice hurried to say. She always rushed to deny _any_ connection to her old feelings for her. Even if that meant cutting her past away completely. “And you’re not who I thought you were. Or even _what_.” she added, serious, bitter.

“What I am doesn’t have to matter.” the Champion stated.

“Like it doesn’t matter to K/DA?” Avarice bit back. “What lies do they tell themselves about you, I wonder.”

Evelynn felt her jaw clench at that one, not really knowing why. It was a subconscious muscle movement, but then again, she didn’t really do those. After all, nothing truly bothered her.

“You really want to know?” she asked, half smile, half sneer. “I’ll tell you. Ahri wants to see me as a kindred spirit so she won’t be so alone in the world. She needs someone to understand what it’s like to be a monster, compelled by your own nature. Even if we’re _far_ from alike. Even though she feeds on their happiness and I feed on their pain. Even though she shortens their lifespan slightly –and I end them.” Evelynn gripped the side of her seat, leaning forward. “Kai’sa could _not_ acclimate herself to be around humans after spending an eternity in the Void. Their myriad emotions processed through her suit drove her _insane_. I was the only one she could stand being around. Sona is determined to find the good in me, like she does with everything in this world. She _tries_ , but I don’t know how that goes for her.”

“And Akali?” Avarice asked coldly.

“Akali is the most interesting out of all of them.” Evelynn smirked. “The orphan who never had a place to really belong to, not one that didn’t first demand everything from her. Akali believes herself trained to see through deception, to step over emotion, to live freely, by her own rules. But deep down she’s so _desperate_ for a place to call home she’s willing to overlook even the danger I pose.”

Avarice scoffed. “Good for them, I guess.”

“It could be even better for you, if you stopped being so stubborn.” Evelynn said, hooking a finger under Fenrir’s chin before she could turn away. Like a magnet drawn to metal, she leaned forward until they stood barely an inch apart. “Just like them, you want something from me too, Avarice.” she practically breathed against her lips. “If you stop fighting it, you may even have a nice time.”

Evelynn released her hold on the girl’s chin and dropped back into her seat. She could spend all her sleepless hours coaxing herself into Avarice’s space, but she couldn’t really miss her concert.

They did not exchange another word for the rest of the drive, after that.

…

Evelynn did not much care for starstruck stares as she danced and sang on stage. It was natural; she was a sight to behold, she made herself that way, built every inch to be so attractive it was lethal. A goddess among men would lure the eye like a beacon called to ships at night. It never mattered –she never looked at anyone in particular as she performed.

But she held that sea-blue gaze, that night. Even searched for it, through the mass of cheering, screaming people and pulsing bodies. Avarice ended up staying throughout their entire concert –and Evelynn caught herself wondering, more than once, if she would.

By the time the whole thing was over, the others still buzzing with the energy of it and suggesting going for drinks along with their partners, Avarice waved a casual ‘goodnight’ over the continent of bodies separating them.

“I’ll be right back.” Evelynn said to her group over her shoulder, slipping into shadows.

More than a few drunk people were pushed aside on her way to the summoner. Until she was out of the crowd, the air clean again, standing in front of Avarice with a hand clasped tightly over her wrist. Evelynn herself couldn’t explain the constant inclination to touch her, trap her near, otherwise she may be taken too far away again.

“Enjoy the show?”

Rare as a total eclipse, Fenrir… actually smiled. “You guys killed it.” she complimented genuinely. “The concert was great and the cameras should be satisfied. I guess now I can go.”

“Or you could come for drinks with us.” Evelynn let go of her, to make the point it was her decision. Avarice shook her head. “Come _on_ , just live a little. It’s a big group, you don’t even have to ride with me.”

“Just for an hour. And then I’m catching my beauty sleep.” Avarice warned.

If K/DA was surprised that she was joining, none of them showed it. If anything, they welcomed her right along.

“Okay, so we can’t squeeze into two cars, no matter how we try.” Akali said. “I’m taking someone with me on my bike.” Nearly everyone raised their hands. The rogue smirked under her mask. “And by that I mean I call dibs on Avarice.”

Evelynn watched them walk over to Akali’s motorcycle from her Bugatti, tapping her nails on the steering wheel while the rest of K/DA got in. The summoners had already started towards the club. But something didn’t sit right with the demoness.

Perhaps it was the way Avarice laughed at whatever it was Akali said before the rogue handed her the second helmet.

Perhaps it was the way she so easily climbed onto the bike with her, arms around her, while she had stood so rigid near Evelynn, earlier.

…

They got along so well with her. They _all_ did.

Sona liked everybody by default, but she was never so open so quickly. Ahri was purring like an oversized cat next to her after a few drinks and one cute compliment. Kai’sa leaned on her as they watched a match replay on her phone and Akali– those two practically became best buddies from second _one_. Evelynn lost track of _how_ many things in common they discovered they had until that point.

‘Just for an hour’ turned into several hours.

The summoners were practically smashed by the time Avarice stood. A concerned look was sent their way as she stepped around their collapsed weight, sprawled onto the plush couches, to retrieve her jacket. “Thank you for tonight, but I really have to go.”

“You should come with us more often.” Akali said, leaning at the edge of her seat.

Before she could suggest anything close to driving Fenrir home, Evelynn jingled her car keys over the mage’s shoulder and fixed her with a glare. The assassin, although tipsy, got the message and leaned back with a loopy smile.

Avarice seemed much more relaxed when she slipped into the passenger seat, reaching to the console to turn on the radio while Evelynn maneuverered her way out of the parking lot. Surely, the way everyone else had double-parked, it took a demon to get out of there without scratching the paint. It occurred to her more than once to just get out and push their darn cars out of the way. Alas, she had class.

 _Idiots_ , she thought. _If I get my hands on you..._

“At least you no longer get drunk from an orange juice.” Evelynn teased once they were back on the main road.

Avarice rolled her eyes. “I can’t get drunk at _all_ anymore.” she sighed wistfully, like parts of her life would be easier if she could.

A couple of minutes passed with only the soft music of the radio lingering in the scented air of the cabin.

Until.

“I don’t want to admit it.” Avarice began, “But I had fun tonight.”

Evelynn did not speak for a while, perhaps so as to not jinx the calm mood. They were getting close to the League.

Then, out of the blue, “Have you seen the ‘choose your assassin’ poll?” she asked, glancing at the summoner, who only nodded. Evelynn licked her lips. “Katarina or Akali?”

“Excuse me?” Avarice frowned cutely.

“Would you bang Katarina or Akali?” Evelynn repeated. It was a thing they often used to do, choosing between celebrities, playing ‘fuck, marry, kill’ just to pass the time between matches, especially when the waiting queue took too long. They didn’t really pick Champions as the topic –Avarice wouldn’t look them in the eye or stop blushing after, so that was counterproductive– but everyone else was fair game.

Avarice shifted. Shifted again. “…uh, if I _have_ to choose… probably Akali.”

 _I knew it_. Evelynn huffed. Katarina was too much of a bad girl for her tastes, too aggressive and ‘want, take, have’. Akali looked the part, but she _only_ looked the part.

Evelynn parked underneath the GrandMaster dorms. Everything was quiet in the small hours of the morning. Not a soul in sight. Not a single leaf moving in the dark.

“Alright.” the demoness said, turned to face her. “Akali or me?”

Avarice froze. Chuckled. Shook her head. Evelynn’s amber eyes stayed on her, demanding an answer. 

The demoness then reached between them, tugged Avarice close by the jacket and helped her decide. When their lips met, she kept her fangs dull and her lashers loosely around the girl’s seat, no matter how both ached to press inside her. The cool skin of her neck, barely a tingle of sensation against the diva’s fingertips, was so _nice_ to touch. Evelynn dipped her tongue into her mouth for just one intoxicating lick… before she begrudgingly pulled herself back. Avarice was already starting to freak out and it was in her best interests not to press on and send her running for the hills.

 _But why?_ Part of her asked.

And that, she had no answer for.

The summoner took a breath and instantly reached for the door’s mauve handle, as if being trapped in such close quarters with her was toxic for her health. Yet she paused there for all of two seconds. Then, without looking at Evelynn, she said:

“You.”

And she was gone inside the dorm faster than the eye could catch.

The demoness slowly leaned back, an extremely self-satisfied smirk playing at her full lips. It was twice by then she kissed the summoner just for the sake of kissing her. Although she couldn’t exactly put her finger on _why_ , she decided that she liked it. There was a fleeting spark to it, not quite feeling but not quite the usual void, either, a tiny thrill that came with the knowledge Avarice enjoyed it, despite trying not to. Evelynn wanted more of it, she was _hungry_ for it, any echo of sensation she could gather into her being, against the never-ending struggle with nothingness.

But if she made the mistake of approaching Avarice while any less fed and in control…

Then that drive would be the very thing that broke her favorite toy. She knew it. She had _always_ known it.

In any case, she mused, there was something amusing about being balanced on a thread, one side calling for primal indulgence no matter the cost and the other seeking the unknown, a distant possibility for less that could be _more_.

 _Let’s wait and see._ Evelynn thought. After all, she had always been unpredictable.

Even to her own self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think they deserve some normal time together that doesn't involve soil and blood, do they not? ;) Evelynn is both super smooth and a little shit depending on the mood. But above all she always, *always* gets what she wants. Cue her login screen music, her theme fits her like a glove. (On a side note, people worship Katarina like the deadly-sexy badass she is and they're right to. Assassins can get it, people.)
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments, see you next week :)


	11. Chapter 11

**[Avarice]**

She couldn’t sleep.

 _“You want something from me too, Avarice.”_ Lidded eyes danced before her mind. The darkness she could see held past the amber, pulsing with the need to consume, should be enough to render them horrifying. And yet, the first word that leapt to mind was _breathtaking_. 

It had been a terrible mistake, dropping her guard like that. Avarice felt foolish, like a fly that was given the power to make out the spider’s web clear as day, only to walk that much more willingly into it. Trapped inside Evelynn’s luxurious car, which smelled just like her. Gods, that mix of classy, expensive perfume and hair conditioner still clung to her lungs. Trapped under the heat of her gaze, her touch, her mouth. Haunted by the taste of her lips even in her fortress of solitude, unable to rest.

Avarice grit her teeth and turned in bed for the umpteenth time. Still-damp strands of hair clung to her pillow, from the ice-cold shower she had taken earlier. It hadn’t helped. _She_ was always there, a whisper at the back of her neck, a coo in her ear. 

_“If you stop fighting it, you may even have a nice time.”_

And it was so easy to _not_ fight it, too. So easy it was terrifying. To just accept it, what she’d always dreamed of, what she’d always wanted. To savor the attention, the pleasure. Surrender was its own form of release, Fenrir had read somewhere once –but there would be no coming back from this line if she crossed it.

Evelynn wasn’t a dream. She was a nightmare. Beauty that was blinding, yet only skin-deep, raw allure that was fatal. All her pretty words and charming gestures were lies to hide the real thing, her attraction a _lie_. A lie so many had fallen for, yet anyone would still desperately believe.

Avarice hated herself for it.

For moments of weakness where she wanted to believe, like earlier that night. For all the things she felt that chocked her, smothered her, that she couldn’t get rid of.

 _How does it feel?_ A part of her mocked. _To know you desire the very thing you are fighting against?_ She brought her palms up to cover her face, as if that would silence the thoughts. Something like ice lingered at the pit of her stomach, then expanded to engulf all of her.

Shame.

...

Days passed. Avarice focused on her ranked matches in the League to forget about everything else. It was just pure luck that she hadn’t gone up against Evelynn in the jungle, but that didn’t mean she was on a winning streak, either.

The gap from Master to GrandMaster was just too big. And from there to Challenger, almost unbridgable. She wondered how the hell she’d even managed to get there all those years ago. She had been weaker, less agressive and less experienced. And yet she was certain it had felt easier climbing with Evelynn, even when they weren’t going into matches with a pre-selected team.

Avarice turned her head towards the luxurious Challenger dorm, gleaming in the distance. She missed the amazing spa there way more than its snobbish inhabitants, but then again most summoners above Diamond were overtaken by their own ego. 

“Gonna be in the dorm soon?” A strangely familiar voice came from her right. Avarice shifted her attention to the other woman, meeting a shimmering pair of icy eyes that belonged only to a certain clan of Freljord: the Frostguard. Then her gaze dropped to the badge proudly on display over her heart –the Challenger sigil.

It was surprising, to say the least, that Helena Frostguard, Lissandra’s main summoner –rank _one_ summoner– chose to approach her under the shade of the random tree Avarice had picked in the vast courtyard.

“Didn’t think you’d be keeping tabs.” she replied, wary of the other mage’s motives.

“Oh, I always keep tabs on potential allies.” Helena shrugged easily. It was no secret the Ice Witch gathered the top of the top for her team. Avarice didn’t think she met the criteria, though. Just off the top of her head, there were over a dozen junglers way better than she was. “Just a piece of advice, Fenrir; don’t underestimate the power of a perfect summoning bond. Some say it bends even the laws of our world. Makes Champions powerful as gods.” And with a barely-there smile, the star began walking away, hands in the pockets of her designer robes.

The symbol of the Frostguard at her back gleamed under the sunlight, until she was out of sight. 

_A powerful summoning bond. The thing I supposedly had with Evelynn, is it._ Avarice thought bitterly. It was the connection that came as naturally as breathing to some pairs, or achieved through endless battles and hard work with others. Fenrir wasn’t certain what category she and her old main fell under but …she was damn sure she didn’t want anything as intimate as that with the demoness again.

_And there Helena is, telling me that’s my ticket to Challenger._

_Can life_ not _suck for me for, like, a moment?_

Then, suddenly, Avarice’s vision stuttered.

Reflexively, it reverted to her magical sight, the grey world dominated by patterns of magic. Shifted just in time for her to witness two reinforced layers of shields being raised atop the already existing one of the League, covering it like armor, like a cocoon.

The amount of energy that barrier took must have been _absurd_.

Avarice stood from her seat, eyes searching the dome for any weaknesses. _Wow, not a single flaw. Did they heed my warning of danger coming…?_

“What do you think?” another familiar voice came, this time from behind her. Fenrir recognized this one all too well.

She blinked until her surroundings were normal again. Then she turned, addressing the High Summoner. “I think people just can’t leave me be under this tree. Also… that’s a damn flawless shield.”

“Ryze will help me maintain it for as long as we have to.” Aquillas spoke calmly, evenly. He hummed to himself. “…But you shouldn’t be able to _see_ it, Avarice.”

Fenrir’s eyes snapped up to his. Deep blue, to light. _Do I lie? Fuck, do I lie? I’m a gods-awful liar…_ “Uh, I can’t see it, exactly…” she trailed off. “I sense it.”

“Interesting.” the wise man said, the crinkles near his eyes deepening with his subtle smile. “Because you said ‘flawless’ and not ‘powerful’. Which, honestly, is about all I can tell after my many years leading the Institute.”

 _Shit. Nobody must know, or even suspect, what I see._ “So, is there something you want from me, High Summoner, or just passing by?” she none-too-subtly changed the subject.

“A father is concerned for all his children, Avarice. Especially those who are still recovering from trauma.” he said. It was no secret, having no children of his own, Aquillas saw all summoners as his own heirs. But something about that sentence caused a small explosion inside of Fenrir.

“Isn’t a _father_ concerned letting his children near unpredictable monsters?” Fires spit from her eyes. “Voidlings. _Demons_.” This time, she couldn’t hold the accusation in the back of her throat.

“Ah.” the man nodded. “But my children cannot be harmed here. And to be more specific… even outside the barrier, I knew Evelynn would not harm you.”

“Apparently it’s what she does.” Avarice bit back. “You knew. _I_ didn’t.” The light in his gaze dimmed a bit, at that. “It was pretty traumatizing how I found out, trust me.”

“The League protects their identities, Avarice. It’s in their contracts, in the very magic that binds them here. Things were this way long before me and they will be so, long after me, as well.” Aquillas explained.

“But _why_.” she demanded.

The High Summoner took a deep breath. Gazed about nature with appreciative eyes. “Do you know what the League stands for? It stands at the pinnacle of nations, as a symbol of balance. Perfect harmony cannot be achieved by embracing only the light, only the things we like and want.” Fenrir didn’t agree with that, didn’t want to, but listened on. “Balance is made out of equal parts sun and moon, light and dark –and even the void. The universe is made out of all sorts of energies and entities we cannot comprehend yet they are accepted here, provided they are willing to follow our rules.”

“You’re hoping for a coexistence that’s just not possible.” she shook her head. “That utopia is a fairytale. They see us as no more than toys or _food_.”

“And yet Kha’Zix has greatly grown beside his chosen partner. To understand, even respect people’s lives. Orianna is acting more human by the day.”

“And Evelynn is out there torturing people. Nice one.” Avarice sneered.

“We cannot change them at the core, Avarice. We accept them and await. The world, I’ve found, has a great many ways to preserve itself. To heal. If Evelynn’s existence is a scar upon it, fate will make it so it closes, in time, with means perhaps we cannot even fathom.” Aquillas said, always so calm and poised.

A few quiet moments passed between them. Birds chirped in the tree over their heads. One came to land on the bench Avarice had stood from, gazing at her curiously before flying away.

“The two of you were a particularly interesting case.” the High Summoner spoke up. Avarice frowned. “How such darkness could surround such light, without smothering it. It is true that I feared for you, at first. But then I freed myself from my prejudice and really _looked_.”

“And what is it you saw?” Avarice asked quietly.

“Great kindness that embraced great cruelty, a stability to calm the raging chaos. When you stood in that stage the day I gave you your Challenger badge, radiant, _glowing_ , with your champion proud beside you… I saw hope.”

And Avarice didn’t know why it was that, of all things, that made her vision blur with unshed tears.

She had forgotten what _hope_ felt like.

…

Absolute darkness ruled the night. Not a single source of light existed in the sky, nor her surroundings.

Yet Avarice’s lich form pulsed with an unearthly arcane glow, a zap of flame in the forest, a howling fury on the hunt. She was intent on not letting her target get away, though it was easier said than done. The woman in the fox mask had been anticipating her attack; she opened up a portal and fled as soon as Fenrir leapt into the ritual circle. Following her through the distortion had been instinctive, but she had no idea where they ended up, or if Evelynn would –could— find them on time.

Avarice couldn’t hurt the Founder cultist even if she caught up to her, of that she was painfully aware. It didn’t stop her; she was nothing if not resourceful. In one burst of magic that nearly depleted her mana reserves, the summoner shot up to the Fox’s level.

Particles of un-light formed around them in an arc, before Avarice’s spectral chain materialized, coiled around the cultist’s legs. Both mages came hard-crashing onto the rocky ground.

Something cracked at the impact. Fenrir was pretty sure she didn’t want to know what, as she tried to lift herself on bruised arms. Her triceps strained from the effort. Pain blossomed across her left side. _My ribs. Fuck._

Iridescent eyes locked onto the enemy. The Fox was wiggling on the ground like a slimy caterpillar, fighting a fruitless battle against the jagged bonds around her feet. Meanwhile, Avarice could feel her bones starting to strengthen, the uncomfortable, dizzying sensation of the fractures healing rapidly, but she was still unable to stand. _At this rate, she’ll break free!_

“Nice try, lich.” The cultist focused all her twisted mana into a singular point, akin to a laser beam. Avarice’s chain snapped under the pressure. A gloating look was sent her way that lasted all of two seconds. “But _I_ win—”

And then a shadow was shoving her back down onto the rocks, face-first.

The mask cracked.

Evelynn’s demonic laugh floated about the air as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “You were saying?” she asked, flexing talons thin and sharp as razorblades.

“W-we are not your enemy.” the Fox said, turning towards the demoness. Blood leaked down her neck from under the mask. “One day soon, you shall see that.”

Evelynn’s pupil-less yellow eyes peered at her, unblinking, malicious. Avarice was certain anyone would prefer death over that gaze on them. It was the herald to an unspeakable evil, to unimaginable torture.

Fenrir finally managed to curl a knee under her, used it to support her weight. She wondered, silently mortified, if Evelynn was going to break the cultist open right before her eyes. As every bit of poetic justice as that would be, Avarice didn’t think she could stomach seeing the kinds of things the demoness took pleasure in.

“You don’t cling to faith like the rest of them.” Evelynn commented.

Slowly, the Fox rose to a kneeling position. “It is not _faith_ that made me offer my soul to our God.” she spoke, brimming with venom. “I wanted to watch this world _bleed_. And I will not go down screaming.” Her hands moved, weaving a rune into the air that quickly settled itself onto her chest. _Into_ it.

Avarice watched as the putrid energy around her soul expanded, enough to engulf all of her, to stain the earth and the air surrounding them.

“Nothing in a radius of three kilometres will survive!” the woman cackled, as a twisted form of light started emanating from her chest.

To Avarice’s eyes, it reflected the same as any ritual, expect a hundred times more intense, the sheer corruption there pulsing and breaking the Fox open, threatening to burst—

_A mana bomb._

Avarice barely had the time to realize she was going to get blown to _bits_.

A flash of black was all she saw.

Then, her vision was overtaken by blinding, burning _red_.

…

Everything was spinning behind her closed eyelids.

Avarice felt trapped in a never-ending blur, fighting against the urge to sink back into darkness only to fail, over and over. There were moments she was terrified in the haze, unable to feel her body although instinctively knowing the damage done to it was severe. She couldn’t tell when the ringing in her ears ceased, yet the drum-like pounding at her temples refused to ease.

It felt like an eternity she was trapped in that state, struggling in the dark.

Until her eyes finally blinked open, graced by slow-settling clarity.

A crimson ceiling greeted her. The red toning down into patterned walls, then dark-wood furniture and wardrobes that looked too expensive to be anything she could ever afford in her bedroom. As soon as Avarice managed to get a grip on her other senses, she realized she was covered in silk sheets, laying on the world’s most comfortable mattress. An achingly familiar scent lingered in the air; perfume, conditioner and body lotion that combined so perfectly it couldn’t be anything other than intentional.

Avarice tried to move –and immediately realized it was a terrible mistake. It was like every nerve ending screamed at her all at once, like another explosion wrecked the cells in her body. She’d cry out, if she could find her voice.

“Don’t do that.” Evelynn’s voice came in a drawl, just outside the bedroom. Seconds later, the door opened and she casually strolled in. It took Avarice too long to realize her hair lacked its stylish ornate hairpin, that no earrings jingled at her ears as she walked… that she was out of her fancy dresses and mini-skirts in favor of casual, loose pants. For a moment, she almost looked like someone else, someone gorgeous but _normal_.

One look into her eyes was enough to shatter the illusion. Cold amber scanned her from head to toe. Evelynn sat next to her at the edge of the bed and Avarice’s instincts yelled to _run_.

She channelled some of that frustration into sarcasm. “Don’t you knock?” It came out hoarser and weaker than she would have wanted, but it was a start.

“It’s my bedroom, actually.” Evelynn replied, her flat, emotionless tone an immediate contrast to her usual colorful pretend. Something about her was off in more ways than one –Avarice would call her _tired_ , if she could even be such a thing.

“How long was I out?” she asked, mentally fighting the unease of being vulnerable around the demon.

“The whole night and day.” Evelynn said.

One look at the window near the bed confirmed it was nighttime. “Shit.”

“The world is going crazy over the explosion that levelled that forest. Obviously, I couldn’t bring you to the League. They would start asking questions.” Avarice wanted to protest that she didn’t exactly want to be in her room, either. She held her tongue. “You healed well, all things considered.”

“If I healed so well, why the fuck can’t I _move_?” she demanded.

Evelynn licked her full lips. Avarice willed herself not to be drawn to the motion. “There… is a slight problem.”

 _Of course there is._ She huffed. Took a deep breath. _Stay calm._ “Such as?”

“The bitch was wearing dragonscale armor underneath her cultist robes. When she blew herself up, she became somewhat of a fragmentation grenade.” Evelynn’s lips curled into a slight smirk at that.

Realization quickly dawned on Avarice. “You mean those things healed _in_ me?!” she raised her voice to the point she could without feeling like a nuke was going off within her again. “You didn’t think to get them out while I was still unconscious?!” _You fucking bitch, getting off on my—_

“I _did_.” Evelynn fixed her with a piercing glare, cutting that thought off. “But I needed to get _myself_ healed first and by the time I returned, about half an hour ago, you were already waking up.”

Part of Avarice was glad she didn’t open her eyes to the image of Evelynn’s claws sank into her –because there was no way she was recovering from that shock anytime soon– but that meant she would now have to endure that very same thing, fully _aware_. As if that wasn’t bad enough, dragonscales were poisonous to the human body. Although Avarice wasn’t exactly human anymore, she wasn’t immune to the effects, either.

In short… she was not moving an inch with the fragments still in her.

Fenrir closed her eyes to ground herself. To focus.

It worked, until Evelynn shifted, first rising from her seat… and then crawling over her like a panther.

The glint of amusement returned to her eye, along with the overly flirtatious smile working its way across her sinful mouth. The summoner’s blood turned to ice in her veins. She felt like prey once more, worse even than being strapped to the cult’s altars. Any words she may have had died at the back of her throat… and Evelynn sat back in her lap, like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like a lover, looking down at her with those curious, hungry eyes.

“Get off of me right _now_.” Avarice warned, though she was in no position to. They both knew it. The words brushed right past the champion.

The demoness’ gaze dropped to their point of contact, drawing hers along with it. Her skin felt so hot underneath Evelynn, between her thighs, like getting licked by fire. Avarice clung onto the terror, because the biting cold of it was so much safer than the molten heat coiling in her gut. “I know you used to dream of me.” Evelynn said, voice low and oozing sex. “You used to call my name in your sleep.” her finger hooked at the few buttons keeping Avarice’s shredded shirt together, breaking them open. The summoner could feel her breath coming faster.

Evelynn’s palm splayed on her taut stomach, deceptively soft. She slowly leaned in, those succulent lips a hair’s breath from her own. “Stop it.” Avarice said, but her voice wavered. Nearly cracked, like the rest of her resolve.

“Is this what you dreamt of?” the demoness cooed against her mouth.

Her hips gave a tiny, almost experimental grind.

Avarice sucked in a breath. Gods, just that was almost too _much_ —

“Come on, _touch_ me.” Evelynn whispered, kissing her deeply. Avarice didn’t want to be aroused by her, but with how the diva moved against her in the dark, how her tongue dominated her mouth, it was impossible not to. Whether she hated to admit it or not, this _was_ what she dreamt of when she was younger, Evelynn pushing her down and taking whatever she wanted.

Evelynn’s lips were a piece of heaven, soft candy, too smooth and too good. Avarice soaked up her touch like a sponge that was left too long in the dessert. She was vaguely aware of her nails at her abdomen, but the pressure of her mouth, not easing for a second, made it impossible to focus on anything other than the kiss. Then the demoness took her hand with her free one, guided it to her breast, urged her to squeeze.

Avarice did.

She lost track of time in that vortex of a makeout, easing back only when Evelynn allowed it, gradually growing less aggressive. Her sultry mouth moved from sucking on her bottom lip to the soft spot underneath her jaw –and that was when Avarice heard a metallic click.

She opened her eyes to see Evelynn’s lashers un-camouflaged, their tips stained red, same as the fingers of the hand she previously had on her stomach. Avarice quickly pushed her off…

Surprised that she _could_. 

Evelynn didn’t offer any resistance to being rolled aside.

Ocean eyes frantically scanned the expanse of her stomach. Fresh, deep cuts stood stark against her pale skin, abstract red amidst the white, in various stages of healing. There were two more on her right thigh, another on her bicep. Their pain, dulled from the adrenaline rush, registered only as an afterthought. Beside her, on the bloodied sheets, there were the dragonscale fragments the demoness so deftly removed.

Avarice was left staring at the pieces, speechless. Part of her was still reeling with desire. Another filling with dread. It all felt surreal, like waking up inside of a nightmare that started as a wet dream. And Evelynn was there, casually propped on her pillow with her head resting on her palm, her fingers still painted with her blood. When she turned back to her, the mage was _furious_.

“But it didn’t hurt, did it, darling?” Evelynn asked, unfazed by everything, a little smile in place as though it was all just another game to her.

 _Which… it was._ _How could you ever allow yourself to think otherwise?_

Her hand reached up to rest on Avarice’s chest, over her non-beating heart. Traveled up to her jaw, coaxing her closer. “Now that that’s out of the way, we can continue, hm? I will show you pleasure you didn’t even dare dream of.”

_How could you fall for her again?_

Something in Evelynn’s eyes changed according to the panic in her own –she sat up a little straighter. “…Don’t look at me like that. You don’t have to be afraid right now.” Still, her fingers on her neck suddenly felt like a prison. They weren’t applying any pressure, yet Avarice was chocking.

 _She’ll cut your heart out if you let her and you won’t even_ notice _._

“Avarice, I am _not_ going to hurt you.”

 _Just like them. She’s_ just _like them._

Fenrir slapped her hand away and was already out the door. She didn’t even attempt to find the exit of her mansion, just focused whatever was recovered of her mana and teleported away.

Inside her own house, Avarice leaned over the closest sink with her hands over her face. Her shoulders were shaking, a shipwreck of emotions, yet no tears escaped her eyes. It took a while for most of them to die down, but anger remained.

Evelynn was who she had always been, what she always _was_. No, it wasn’t Evelynn she was mad at.

It was herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I live for angsty, sexual tense-y slow burns. Avarice still needs that hug (and more). Evelynn manipulated her for her own good this time, focused all her attention on her so she wouldn't even feel pain, but our girl didn't exactly take it very well. It was still dissection without her explicit consent and after everything she went through... well. You can imagine her mental state. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me for another chapter :). Work is sadly picking up again so upload dates mayyy have to slow back to once every 2 weeks, but we'll see. Stay healthy and positive out there :)


	12. Chapter 12

**[Evelynn]**

_“Avarice, I am not going to hurt you.”_

A promise which started out as a lie, a means to calm the girl down.

It was only after Evelynn said those words that she realized she meant them. That, perhaps, she wasn’t just acting when she crawled on top of the mage, kissed her to make sure she wouldn’t register lashers and claws cutting into her to pull out the dragonscales. It was the first time in forever she used her charm, her intricate knowledge of the human body –and mind— to make someone _not_ feel pain.

 _Why did I do it?_ She wondered. Why go through all that trouble for practically nothing, nothing to _gain_ , when she could have taken her fix of pleasure so easily. _For her trust?_ Evelynn had no use of such a thing. She didn’t need it, to get what she wanted. But perhaps the question was, what was it she really wanted?

In that moment, _more._

More of that tiny sound Avarice made in the back of her throat every time their tongues met, between a moan and a sigh. More of how she arched underneath her. More of that sizzling fire the demoness could taste from her emotions, which she recalled books describe as intimacy. When Evelynn pulled Avarice’s hand to her breast, rolled her hips over hers, something inside her had grown so _hot_. 

She had been in such a haze, a high, that she put up no resistance when Fenrir rolled her aside. Evelynn registered disappointment, but above all impatience to go on. She would have said anything to make Avarice come back into her. She would have ridden her all night to make that sensation last.

—But that _look_.

Avarice’s eyes were wide with shock when they fell on her. Mortified. _Appalled_.

Evelynn’s surroundings seemed to shift, as though she was suddenly thrown in ice. Like she lost her grip on her image and transformed into something horrific. Utterly heinous. And the worst part was, it hadn’t gone away since Fenrir fled.

The demoness was left staring at the blood on her fingers.

When she finally rose and entered her bathroom to wash it off, Evelynn double-checked her appearance in the mirror. The world’s most gorgeous woman stared back. Raw desire, in physical form.

And yet.

 _She can see what you really look like, can’t she?_ A part of her whispered in the back of her mind. The cold truth was, past the pretty face, or the monstrous forms she had taken in the past to terrorize the world… she didn’t really look like _anything_.

A demon shade. A shade nonetheless.

Evelynn’s jaw clenched before her reflection. Her eyes flashed yellow –and shards of broken glass fell into the sink. A net of cracks was left, each showing a slightly distorted version of her projected image.

_Even mirrors lie. They don’t show you what’s inside._

…

The explosion was everywhere. All over the news, all over the TV screens in the cafeteria, all anybody talked about.

Evelynn leaned back in her seat, one long leg crossed over the other, busying herself with her phone so she wouldn’t have to listen to all the useless speculation. It wasn’t like anybody could actually find out what happened. Any evidence should have been erased by the blast. If only they could just _drop_ it.

“Yeah but holy shit. Imagine that thing happening in the middle of a city.” Akali said.

“No wonder the Institute is looking into it.” Ahri’s words finally made the demoness look up.

“They are?” she asked, feigning disinterest. 

“Ryze, Kayle and the High Summoner were there earlier, with a team of Institute scientists. If anyone can give the world some answers, it’s probably them.” Kai’sa replied.

 _Shit._ Evelynn thought. Ryze could trace the imprint magic left on the aether like nobody else. He had chased her down using that same method in the past, ages before the League was created. _But surely, an explosion of energy so corrupt would have wiped any echo of me there._

Anyone else would be sweating profusely in her shoes. Evelynn merely shrugged. Not having emotions helped in situations like those.

From the corner of her eye, the demoness spotted Avarice walk up to the counter to take her steaming coffee. The girl didn’t even turn to gaze at her general direction, until—

“Yo, Avarice!” Akali called, raising her hand. Many curious heads turned. “Come sit with us.” she smiled, innocent as an angel, like she didn’t just put her on the spot before hundreds of eyes. Evelynn could sense the summoner’s dismay from across the room. She hid a smirk under her cup of latte.

“Hey guys.” Avarice greeted, glancing fleetingly at the empty seat between the diva and the rogue. Evelynn raised her chin, unhurried, fixing a powerful gaze on the mage through her shades. She looked tired, exhausted even, like she barely got any sleep. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so I should just take my coffee and go—”

“Come _on_ , only for a little while.” Akali refused to take no for an answer, pulling her down by the sleeve of her summoner robes. Avarice was forced next to the demoness –Evelynn would comment that it seemed to be her fate– but she did _everything_ in her power to lean as far away as possible on the little space she had. The idol would be offended, if she actually could. “Where have you _been_? Didn’t see you anywhere.”

“Yeah, I was a little busy. Outside.” Avarice gestured casually. Evelynn’s eyes trailed from her moving mouth to the soft spot under her jaw, where she’d pressed her lips the previous night. _I should have left a mark._ She thought. It would be interesting how she’d try to cover it up. Then again, she healed _fast_.

Before Akali could form another sentence, the double doors to the cafeteria slammed open. Ryze stood there, eyes radiating arcane fury… and locked straight on Evelynn. Avarice tensed in her seat. _Fuck me, here we go again._ The demoness huffed.

The archmage walked, each step weighed with purpose and determination, until he towered over their table.

“Something the matter, Ryze? You’re kind of making a scene.” Ahri spoke up first.

“Why don’t you tell her, Evelynn?” he suggested, arms crossed.

“About?” An elegant eyebrow was raised.

“Where were you, exactly, the night of the explosion?” Ryze questioned.

Because of the surveillance cameras, the Institute officials already knew she wasn’t inside the League at the time of the incident. Of course, by itself that didn’t prove anything– many Champions weren’t. All of which were called in for a mandatory questioning. She had lied about being in her mansion.

Evelynn narrowed her eyes. _If he had anything solid against me he wouldn’t be asking. So, baldie, you didn’t find shit._ she inwardly laughed. “I thought we went over this. I was in my house.” the lie rolled easily off her tongue.

“There were faint traces of demonic energy scattered at the center of the blast.” Ryze spoke quietly so nobody else could hear.

“So… you are _assuming_ it’s me.” Evelynn chuckled. “Very unbiased, detective.”

The archmage lost a fraction of his bravado. “It was a mana bomb. A scale unseen in recent years but I am certain of it. Someone overloaded their energy and blew themselves up. Now why would they do that, if not to prevent suffering worse?” he said. “You claim you were at your mansion. K/DA was not with you. Can anybody back up your alibi?”

Evelynn stared at him, unimpressed, past the mauve glass of her shades.

They seemed to be at an impasse.

Avarice was the last person she ever expected to tilt the scale in her favor, though.

“Actually… _I_ can.” the girl spoke up carefully, almost shy, raising her hand. Ryze’s eyes widened like just noticed her there, next to her, exactly where she shouldn’t be. “Um… I was there.” she admitted quietly. “…for the whole night. And day.”

Ryze’s expression strained so hard to remain neutral it was funnier than if it had gone through with the myriad grimaces he suppressed.

Evelynn chuckled. Reached beside her and threaded her fingers with Fenrir’s on her chair’s arm, to make the point that much more blatant. Avarice avoided looking at anyone or anything but her coffee. “Wanna hear the juicy details of my alibi, Ryze?” she dipped her voice an octave lower. “Oh, it was _explosive_ alright.”

Avarice looked ready to crawl into a hole and _die_ of embarrassment.

Ryze cleared his throat. Stood straighter. “I thought you were different.” he said to Fenrir. “That you saw more than most.” Avarice met the accusation in his eyes, no readable emotion in her own. “I guess not.” were his parting words. The archmage turned his back and exited the way he came, never looking back.

Fenrir didn’t seem to realize how hard she had been clutching Evelynn’s hand, until she abruptly let go. She still refused to look at her.

A brief moment of silence passed over the group.

“So…” Kai’sa threw them a sideways glance.

“‘I was a little busy’ my ass!” Akali mimicked Avarice’s voice and the whole table burst into laughter.

Avarice leaned her forehead onto her hand, knowing she was _doomed_.

…

Heels trailed after her own down the empty corridor.

“Evelynn.” Ahri called once the group had broken up after coffee. “Do you have a moment?”

“No.” Evelynn waved over her shoulder.

One _spirit rush_ later, the nine-tailed fox was up to her level. Not wasting a beat, she pushed her into the nearest alcove. The demoness would shove her right back out just to show her who _not_ to mess with, but the severe look in her eyes gave her pause.

“ _What_.” she growled.

“I should be asking _you_ that. About time you explain what the fuck is going on between you and Avarice.” To say Ahri was pissed would be an understatement. “A few months ago you attacked her, Eve. Now I’m supposed to believe everything is fine? She forgot it all? Even spent the night with you and lived to see the morning after?”

“I can fuck people without killing them, you know. Just like you.” the demoness smirked cockily. “Except I normally choose not to.”

“Cut the _shit_ , Evelynn!” Ahri roared in a harsh whisper. “Hasn’t she been through enough?”

Amber eyes narrowed to slits. “Why the sudden interest in my playthings, Ahri? Got bored of Sona already?”

“Fuck you.” Ahri’s eyes flashed.

“Remember our agreement, foxy; stay out of my business.” Evelynn warned, knocking the fox’s shoulder as she walked by, out into the open corridor. “Believe it or not, some of the things I do aren’t to her –they’re _for_ her.”

“Then why is she terrified of you?” the fox challenged.

Evelynn paused. The muscles at her jaw clenched. “Because she’s smart.” she replied and was on her way.

The things closest to her, after all, were the ones in danger of breaking first.

…

_‘Then why is she terrified of you?’_

The broken record of words on repeat wouldn’t leave her alone. Even during the high of feeding, they plagued her. Ruined what little fun she could have with bitter drops that ended up quickly poisoning the whole thing.

_She’s terrified. Not seduced._

Evelynn had really tried with Avarice.

And –failed.

She failed to make her fall with pretty words and coaxing touches. She failed to lull her into a false sense of security, just how she liked her victims before she sank her lashers into their marrow. She failed to scare her when she wanted to and she terrified her when she _didn’t_ mean to. Everything always had the opposite result of what the demoness was used to –and it was so fucking _frustrating_.

She wasn’t used to playing and losing…

But she played and lost.

Evelynn couldn’t get what she wanted the way she liked. She could, however, force it to happen –and she decided, that was exactly what she was going to do. Just get it done and get it out of her system, because no human could invade her mind, set up home there day and night like Avarice and get away with it. Maybe their fun –well, her fun– wouldn’t exactly be how she pictured, but it would serve as a nice consolation prize for all the shit she had to go through for the _one_ damn being who wouldn’t bend over for her like the rest of them.

There could be _no_ exceptions to her rule.

What Evelynn wanted, she _took_.

Their Eternal Oath made it easy. One kill was one request. All she had to do was find another Founder. Even without Avarice’s eyes, the task wasn’t too difficult.

The demoness stalked a newly-initiated cult member to a remote alley, where she killed him in the blink of an eye. Stealing his clothes was as effortless as stealing his face. Evelynn walked among the cultists as one of them, followed the flock to an underground temple.

Past collapsed pillars and spiderweb-covered steps, a voice echoed. Low and scratchy, preaching about a sealed God and his Herald in Runeterra, both soon to be unleashed.

The main chamber was filled with bodies bent in worship. In the slightly elevated balcony above them, a black figure stood with his arms open, calling the faithful to his cause. “The first step has already been taken, my children.” he said. Evelynn stepped around a few worshipers to get a good look at her target. “The immortal vessel will be there at the harrowing hour, as she is meant to be.” No features were distinguishable under the cold visage of the man’s Lizard mask. “Soon, you will all witness what your hearts desire most; true terror befall this insolent world. The world that broke you, that you will now help bathe in fear. In… agony.”

 _Wouldn’t that be something._ Evelynn smirked under the shadows of her hood. Hidden in darkness, her natural habitat, she listened in.

“The so-called balance of the League will crumble as the Institute they all look up to turns to ruins. Wars will start and kings will fall.”

Evelynn was vividly reminded of a time long past. When parents stabbed their own children for standing on opposite sides of their civil war; men driven mad with the power of the World Runes. Each of them grasping a piece of eternity aspiring to shape the world in their image…

…but men’s image was hell.

So, the earth shattered. The screams multiplied. Blood ran cold throughout the streets. Countless people were tortured, publicly, to surrender to others the location of another Rune –thus spiraling into another war. An endless cycle of agony.

She had been born there, in the shadows, her first sensation that of suffering. First, drowning in it. Then gradually learning to make it her own. Her strength. Eventually, her pleasure and means of survival.

 _And now I’m dwindling without it._ Her power was a mere fraction of what it had been. Fading, just a little bit more, every day.

A thought occurred to Evelynn, dark and terrible, but then again most of them were. _Fools as they may be… doesn’t the Cult and I ultimately want the same thing?_

Evelynn stared at them all, impassive. Bowed in worship, praying for something they were too naive to realize would also be their own tragic end. Whatever they were calling from the beyond, it had more in common with her, she was sure, than it ever would with them. And if that was the case… _Your God doesn’t give a flying fuck about you, idiots._

Time passed quickly. The followers were leaving by the time Evelynn pushed herself out of her shadowy corner, going the opposite direction. Further into the sanctum, after the Lizard.

There was a small room at the back, a dead end soon to be his grave. The man was sitting down, facing the door, as if waiting.

“Perceptive much, hm?” Evelynn asked, still in the disguise of the young cultist.

“We are not your enemy, Great Demon.” he spoke.

She finally shrugged out of the robes and uncomfortable skin, embraced by shadows and smoke. Other than her yellow eyes and curved horns, everything about her merged with the dark. She _was_ the dark.

“So you keep saying.” she said, no more than a distorted echo.

Sweat ran down the man’s nape. She could see it, clear as his terror. “It is true.” The man poured himself a drink from the flask near him, perhaps to calm his buzzing nerves.

“Our goals may align, but you fools stole something very important from me. And that is a _fatal_ mistake.” she said, a low growl at the end of her words.

 _You have no idea what you took from me. My only source of sensation, outside of torture._ Leeching off the emotions flowing through her summoning bond with Avarice, Evelynn saw things she never would have seen before, in her world of darkness. Felt them, almost as if they were her own. The girl had always been so compassionate, so trusting and genuine _._ So _pure._

And they _ruined_ her.

_She was mine to ruin._

A blink; and Evelynn was towering over the man, claws sank into his throat, just above his vocal cords. “Tell me, before I rip your heart out.” she hissed. “Why do you need her so much?”

“T-The time… has not yet come… t-to reveal..” he croaked, after which his voice wouldn’t come out. The demoness only then noticed the black lines creeping up his veins, the blood vessels popping in his eyes. _Poison_. She realized. The Lizard drank poison, earlier, so he couldn’t speak no matter what she did.

Evelynn shook her head. Flexed her hand –and snapped his neck like a twig. _You imbeciles are too incompetent to start a war of the scale I need, anyway._

“Find me a World Rune and we’ll talk about it.” She joked over his corpse.

 _As if_ , she huffed, stepping out of the decrepit temple. Miracles didn’t exist; she’d been around long enough to know. The end was inevitable. She couldn’t be saved, but she could have her fun…

Until she dissipated into nothingness. 

…

Speaking of fun.

Evelynn reverted to old habits, visiting Avarice’s house as a shadow. The darkness paved the path to the front door, then slipped in as easily as gas. The TV was on –it always was, the demoness recalled, when the summoner was alone at home. Cranked into a low volume, playing either League matches or music videos, because Avarice was intimidated by silence. Perhaps that was no longer the case, but one could certainly be made about loneliness.

A single lamp was turned on in the kitchen, bathing everything in a soft orange glow. Fenrir was sitting in an armchair, idly scrolling through her phone. For once, her guard seemed completely down, possibly the only reason she hadn’t noticed Evelynn there, looking at her. She appeared a soft type of tired that was very reminiscent of the past her.

The demoness moved to the nearest couch. Casually leaned against its back. At a moment’s notice, she dropped the camouflage with a simultaneous “Hey.”

Avarice jumped so far away her waist hit the nearest table. Wide blue eyes stared at her in shock, then fiery anger. “What the _fuck_!” Her defenses came right back up, reinforced by titanium.

“You invited me in.” Evelynn shrugged innocently.

“Yeah. _Years_ ago.” Avarice took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

The demoness looked around, then took a few slow steps closer to the summoner. Fenrir pressed back into the table, as if those millimeters of distance between them were crucial. “I came to collect my fee.” A charming smile was thrown her way.

“Don’t bullshit me, Evelynn. The Fox blew herself up. _You_ didn’t kill her.” Avarice narrowed her pretty eyes.

“I killed the Lizard-guy, though, so you’re welcome.” Moist, purple lips curved into a smirk. “If you don’t believe me, there is a very easy way to find out.”

Fenrir’s jaw worked. “I believe you.” 

Evelynn took the final step forward, closing in on Avarice like water, or liquid toxin, pinning her in place against the furniture without truly applying pressure. Their outlines formed one body in the dark. The girl wasn’t afraid to meet her eyes, yet she _was_ afraid. She was completely at Evelynn’s mercy… and she was known to have none.

The diva raised her hand up to her neck, a caress that would be romantic, if her fingers didn’t wrap around that pale throat the next second. Loose, barely restrictive, a statement rather than a sentence. She was finally done playing games. 

All the demoness had to do was speak her wish and act upon it.

 _Let me do whatever I want to you for the night. Cry for me. Bleed for me. Allow me to torture you –I_ need _it._

Her fingers tightened around the mage’s neck.

But the words wouldn't come out.

“Are you okay?” Avarice asked quietly. Her voice was steady. Evelynn didn’t know how that could _be_ when she, who had all the power, wasn’t. She hesitated and she couldn’t understand _why_. She didn’t _feel_ anything to make her stop, so what in hell was it that silenced her so completely?

Ever since her very first wish, she wanted that one thing. The power, the ecstasy that Avarice’s agony could bring her because they were so compatible. And ever since her very first wish…

She had been afraid.

Afraid of how Avarice would gaze at her afterwards. How she’d speak her name like a curse. How she would loathe her for eternity. Evelynn knew she was a monster. It was her nature –she didn’t choose it, but she was aware of it. She was a monster. Yet it only bothered her when Avarice looked at her like one.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t how victory is supposed to taste like.” Evelynn said. From what she’d experienced so far, this was closer to defeat.

Avarice didn’t seem to understand. “Look, just get it over with.” she said, straining under Evelynn’s hold. More silence. “Just do what you want.” her voice rose in a small explosion of nerves. The lack of reply only made her more anxious. “Tell me what you _want_!”

“I want to _feel_!” Evelynn hissed, practically against her lips.

It was what she’d always wanted. And it always slipped right out of her grasp. First with pain, when just a little bit did the trick. All the way to downright torture, which still grew to not be enough. Then with Avarice, who tasted like light, like everything that was supposed to be good with the world. Who was so kind even when her teammates were pieces of _shit_. Evelynn thought all those soft emotions were useless, but she experienced them through her regardless. They made her _something_ past the _nothing_. Only to be left in the gaping void once more.

“Your turn.” Evelynn spoke, pressing her nails harder against Avarice’s skin just because she could.

Ocean eyes fell sideways.

The demoness trailed her fingers under the summoner’s chin. Raised it up. “You’re free of this wish, darling. Consider it a gift from me. So now, you have no excuse to be angry at how I’m taking advantage of you.” No excuse to make avoiding her easier. “When you decide to reach for what you want, come find me.”

“Evelynn—”

“’Night, love.” the demoness cut her off with a finger to her lips. She leaned in for a kiss… that she pressed to the corner of Avarice’s attractive mouth.

Slipping back into the shadows, Evelynn left the way she came; without a sign nor trace, like an apparition.

She was tempted to look back many times, gain some insight to Fenrir’s thoughts and desires, yet kept her gaze ahead.

That was the whole point of a coin toss, after all; to not know which side it would land on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, another chapter from our fav diva's pov. I loooove writing her. 
> 
> Evelynn's mind, at least to me, is a very dark place she loses herself in, sometimes. I imagine it must be exhausting to not be able to understand who she even is, what she truly wants and why she does some of the things she does. The idea of her 'deteriorating' state and increasingly high mana costs, even just to maintain her K/DA form, came from her own in-game lines. If you listen to them, she says: "I remember when just a little pain did the trick." aka, she's getting hungrier and hungrier. I think her voice actress did an amazing job overall, but especially conveying her desperation to feel. Also, she says "Tasted peace once, didn't do it for me." which means she can, to some small capacity 'taste' or register positive things, too. In this story, Avarice was her source of 'good' emotions, until she was taken away. Our demoness doesn't want to admit it, but that was a massive loss for her.
> 
> Thank you for reading this little rant, I love talking headcanons etc. Love all your input and thoughts on the story. Stay inside, stay healthy and see you next chapter :)


	13. Chapter 13

**[Avarice]**

Days quietly rolled by.

Avarice had taken time away from the hectic life at the Institute, the pressure of ranked matches and the media’s expectations. Her routine consisted of long walks, meditation at the river close to her house, regular visits to the hospital. She caught up on some much-needed sleep and pretended to not remember her dreams, orbiting around mauve lips and stunning amber eyes moving on top of her in the dark, when she awoke.

But the League called.

On the forth evening, Avarice had returned to her dorm room. After a few hours of rearranging her things to her liking, she stepped outside for a stroll at the beautifully lit yards. Soft-glowing lamps paved the path through night-blooming flowers. Their soothing scent wafted throughout the Institute. Fenrir chose a bench a few ways off the cobblestone road as her temporary station to study.

_Summoning magic._

She opened the files she’d downloaded to her phone, going over the things she already knew for the one detail she may have missed, that could provide the insight she sought. Yet no matter how many pages she devoured, all paragraphs on the summoning bond were incredibly vague.

_Well, this is getting us nowhere._

A rush of air headed her direction snapped Avarice out of her focus –her weapons sizzled in the air around her on reflex, a hair’s breath from taking form to defend her…

Against the speeding bullet that was Akali.

Avarice barely had the time to raise an eyebrow, before the rogue zoomed practically into her. “You never saw me!” the assassin said quickly, too quickly, vaulting behind her to press against the old tree there, one with its shadow.

 _The heck…?_ Fenrir wondered, until she noticed the crowd –army— of fangirls headed her direction. Her back straightened. A very uncomfortable sensation rolled down her nape as a hundred eyes zoomed in, scanned her up and down.

“Hey, have you seen Akali?” the first girl pressed, ready to fight the answer out of her if she had to.

“…No?” Avarice replied. “Why would I?”

“Oh, wow, you’re Fenrir, aren’t you?” another asked from the back. A chorus of whispers followed.

“That’s what I go by these days.” she answered, resisting the urge to lean away. _Personal space, people._

“I’m such a huge fan—” another began saying, but was cut off by a guy stepping in front and pointing an accusatory finger at Avarice.

“Is it true you dated Evelynn?!”

 _Are these guys for real?_ “No, I never dated Evelynn—”

“Because the siren is ours, understand?!” a different voice chimed in, quickly drowned by more, who rose to defend her. Things like ‘no, Everice is real’, ‘she deserves her, you asshole’ and ‘they’re made to be’ flew across the air like homing missiles. An all-out war was starting.

Avarice took a breath. And raised her voice. “Guys!” Their attention snapped back to her. “I think I just saw Akali headed that way.” She pointed towards a random direction, as far away from her as possible.

The crowd disappeared faster than grains of salt in water.

Seconds later, Akali hesitantly stepped out of her hiding spot and collapsed next to her. “Man, when the Institute opens up to the public for events all hell breaks loose.” A pause. “I owe you one.” Another pause, broken by a snicker. “If you’d admitted the truth about you and Eve you wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Avarice gave her a flat look. “There is nothing to admit.”

“Yeah? And what were you doing at her house, playing cards?” Akali laughed at her. Fenrir didn’t know how to explain recovering from a blast that would have melted a normal human, so she chose silent dismay. The rogue smirked, before noticing the document she’d been reading on her phone. “I thought only newbies studied summoning magic. Isn’t most of it practical, anyway?”

“It is. But I’m having trouble I can’t explain in my matches, so I thought I’d go back to the basics.” Avarice said.

“Funny way of saying you’re hardstuck in GrandMaster.” Akali teased, which earned her an elbow to the arm. “ _Ow_.”

“See, I understand the basic concept of the summoning bond. You choose a champion and based on your personalities, experiences, playstyle and way of thinking, you have a certain affinity that makes them easier to control. Certain pairs have it by default, others work their asses off for it –but that’s life.” Avarice thought out loud.

“What you don’t get is how much easier you got to Challenger before, while being weaker than you are now.” Akali took the words straight out of her mouth.

“A bit more or a bit less affinity shouldn’t make this devastating of a difference.” And yet Avarice felt like she was lagging behind, her true potential locked behind a wall she just couldn’t break past. A situation beyond frustrating. “I’ve searched everywhere about this so-called ‘Perfect Summoning’ too. And the _only_ articles that aren’t vague as shit are from _very_ few summoners, who all frankly sound like they had too much to drink before their interviews.”

Akali laughed. “I’m not the best person to ask because I never had that fabled, crazy bond that with a summoner.” she said. “But from what I’ve heard of other champions –and trust me, they don’t talk about it– those mages may not be as off as they sound. Maybe the reason you can’t find anything specific is because it’s not _meant_ to be specific. Maybe the rush of sheer power they describe is not meant to be, at all.”

Avarice looked at her, pondering. “I don’t know. There was nothing perfect or powerful about it in the past. Just this steady…” _Safety_. It was something she never said, but Akali seemed to understand.

 _I see._ Realization dawned on the mage, sharp as lightning. _It isn’t my affinity with Warwick that is the problem. It’s me._ It was her, who couldn’t trust anybody enough to open up, to have their back while they had hers. To be her eyes, her will, her senses. To be an extension of herself. _I’m the problem._

“Back at the Kinku, I read a book about the previous High Summoner. Don’t look at me like that –it was out of boredom. I remember there was this quote of his about summoning in general –something like: ‘Do not obsess over how it should be. Out of your vulnerabilities will come your greatest strength.’” the assassin spoke. “It was so different from what I was taught daily. I found it inspiring, at the time.”

“Well, that quote sounds… very helpful.” Avarice joked.

“Yeah, like an Ionian monk on crack.” They both burst out laughing at that. Akali then stood. Stretched. “My infinite wisdom has been granted for the low price of walking me to my next match.”

Avarice rolled her eyes but accompanied the rogue with a soft smile.

…

Crystalline steps led the way to the secluded corridor of the backstage.

Avarice had almost forgotten what the Grand Arena looked like from the inside. A piece of art in its entirety, from the sparkling glass dome to the pristine interiors. Every structure in the Institute was polished to perfection, but nothing quite matched the diamond-like shine of that stage. The cheers of the crowd were so loud they bled through the soundproof walls separating the arena from the waiting area.

Standing there, tracing the steps of all past legends, was every summoner’s dream.

Avarice could vividly recall the day she first stepped foot past the threshold, overcome with a million emotions. Evelynn had grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, because she had literally frozen from the intensity of it all.

At the end of the long corridor, familiar faces came into view. Miss Fortune was talking animatedly with her partner, Nami smiling at their conversation. Sett was in the middle of saying something to Evelynn that turned into a wolf whistle the moment he caught sight of her.

“The view just got better.” He puffed his impressive chest like starring in a cologne ad. Avarice only really registered the pull of Evelynn’s deep, magnetic eyes on her. A secretive smile tugged at the edges of the woman’s dark mouth.

The Challenger who stepped forward to greet Akali threw Avarice a subtle, weird look. Fenrir quickly noticed they all did. Envy glistened in their eyes, like dust particles revealed by a ray of light.

All but Esen. The AD-carry main, world-famous as one of the top three, if not _the_ best, Challenger in her position, gave Avarice an appreciative once-over, instead. Her smile was pretty enough to make most people instantly fall in love. “Hey, Fenrir.” she said, all easy charm.

Avarice, flattered, barely had the time to nod at her. Suddenly her view was blocked by Evelynn, who ghosted her fingertips over her chin in way of ‘hello’. Something akin to an electrical current zapped through her, from chest to stomach. There was a question in Fenrir’s eyes as she looked up at the diva –damn those high heels to oblivion— but the woman didn’t answer as she turned back to Sett.

“Sit down, handsome. This one’s not on the menu.”

The Boss merely laughed. Avarice wanted to be angry at the demoness –she was not her godsdamned toy— but she was too busy fighting the flush away, first. She suddenly became very aware of the lack of windows, or any means of escape, around her.

The staff came to her rescue, at just the right time. “Line up, everybody. Your entrance is in ten… nine…”

The team formed a line, partners beside each other, wearing their ‘business’ faces.

Evelynn looked over her shoulder. “Wait for me.” she mouthed, throwing in a sexy wink for effect.

Avarice’s answer was a sour look.

She didn’t wait.

…

She told herself she didn’t wait, yet she didn’t go far.

Avarice didn’t understand it herself, when instead of her dorm she lingered at her old favorite spot at the yard –the lake. She leaned over the railing of the small bridge there, quietly observing nature.

The wind was picking up. Leaves danced in the sky, then floated down to the crystal waters. Hypnotic circles formed around them and sea-colored eyes broke away only to focus on the luminous-tailed fish just peeking out from the rocks they slept under during the day. Everything was peaceful…

…until the distinct sound of Evelynn’s heels on the wooden floorboards reached her ears.

Of course, the demoness could have simply leapt out of her shadows, offer no signals to her presence. It was perhaps a small courtesy that she didn't. 

“I said to wait for me.” Avarice could feel the cold glare without meeting it.

“Oh, is _that_ what you said.” she pointedly feigned ignorance. Cat-like eyes rolled.

“Don’t be difficult, now. You’ve been gone for days and not even a kiss to greet me.” Evelynn huffed. As if she deserved a reward –or award— for her ‘good’ behaviour. Meaning, her lack of harassment. “You danced in my mind all day... and night.” she dipped her tone low, into more suggestive waters. It would have been sinfully sexy if Avarice didn't remind herself this was just another practiced line for her. 

“Fully clothed, I hope.” the mage commented, facing her company, expression dry.

Evelynn dropped the flirty act for a far more genuine shrug. “I’m bored.”

“Not my problem.” 

“Go out with me like we used to.” the demoness pressed. Avarice shook her head. She was lonely, yes, but not that desperate. “If you don’t I’ll just find someone else~” Evelynn’s smile did little to mask the dangerous gleam in her eyes. 

Avarice hardened like broken glass. “Guilt-tripping me is your winning strategy now?”

“It _is_ a winning strategy.” she said. “Oh, don’t glare. I promise to be on my best behavior.” Evelynn was already tugging on the sleeve of her summoner robes, fancy car keys in hand.

“I don’t want to be seen in public with you.” was said through gritted teeth. Evelynn gave her a mock-offended look. “Just a few hours ago I was nearly jumped by some of your crazy fans who somehow assumed we dated—”

“Everybody assumes that, honey.” Evelynn chuckled.

“And did you _see_ the looks those Challengers gave me? Like I was there to kick them out of their own stage.” She couldn’t tell why talking to the diva happened so easily at times –perhaps a leftover from the past— when she forgot to repeat in her head that the gorgeous woman before her wasn’t _real_.

“Do you remember the names of all those Challengers?” Evelynn asked. Avarice raised an eyebrow. “ _I_ sure don’t. The public couldn’t care less for this match if it wasn’t for their favorite champions and Esen.” she explained. “Being Challenger means you have the right connections and a ton of talent, yes –but by itself, it doesn’t make you a star.” A pale shoulder shrugged. “These people are so mad now, having reached the top only to realize that. They’re still _nobodies_.” Evelynn let out a cruel chuckle. “But you? _Everyone_ knows who you are.”

Avarice nodded.

Took a breath.

Deflated.

“I… still don’t want to be seen in public with you.” she said.

…

Agreeing to go to Evelynn’s mansion was like willingly stepping into the wolves’ den. Albeit a very luxurious one.

Red dominated the main living room, from the plush couches to the crystal-flowers in very expensive-looking vases, to the carpets and details on most paintings adorning the walls. There wasn’t any mauve or purple to greet the eye, not at first anyway, but there was something so distinctly ‘Evelynn’ about the space that made Avarice hover at the entrance. Nervous. Uncertain.

“Do you also need an invitation to come in?” the demoness teased, motioning with her hand for her to follow. Fenrir convinced herself that she didn’t feel at all intimidated as she closed the door behind her. “You were a bit of a dead weight in my arms last time,” An evil little smirk accented the words. “So let me show you around now.”

Evelynn first led her down a set of stairs to the garage, showing off her mind-bogglingly costly collection of sports cars. Back up, to a smaller room tucked to a far side, filled with trinkets and weapons from ancient times, all neatly tucked in display cases. Considering how modern everything else was, how Evelynn acted, like the perfect celebrity of their time, Avarice was taken aback by the thought of just _how_ long the demoness must have been around. What her eyes had seen… and what her claws had torn apart over the eons.

“I’d take you upstairs to the bedroom, but I don’t want you running off so soon.” she spoke. Smirked. “Maybe later.” A charming wink flew her direction, one it must have taken the demoness ages to perfect.

Instead, Avarice trailed after her into a small corridor, past which lay what was obviously Evelynn’s favorite chamber. Surprisingly cozy and entirely in line with her purple theme, the space consisted of a beautiful inside pool, mauve seats adjacent to it, a bookcase at the back and a bar stocked with all sorts of exotic drinks.

 _Okay, this is so cool_. Despite her best efforts not to be impressed, Avarice was.

“Never let it be said I don’t take you anywhere nice.” Evelynn said, handing her a rosé drink and gracefully joining the seat beside her.

“Is that a jab at the wonderful forests and caves I take you to?” Fenrir smirked. The demoness gave her a _look_. Then she she leaned back, casting her gaze over the soft-glowing pool, seemingly fully comfortable. There was something about the image of her relaxed, with her shoulders down and head resting on her hand, that struck Avarice like an arrow to the heart. She fought to look away, but the gorgeous view of the illuminated water then paled in comparison. Speaking up was a way to distract herself. “So, do you mostly live here or with K/DA?”

“Depends. On whatever’s closest, sometimes, or how bored I am.” Evelynn drawled. “K/DA’s mansion technically belongs to Ahri. Her roof, her rules. But here, is a sanctuary _only_ for me.”

“Yet here I am.” Avarice commented, after a sip of her drink. Alcoholic cherry tickled her tongue.

“You’re special, darling.” Evelynn turned the flirting switch right back on, leaning closer, dangerously into her personal space, that irresistible smile ever present.

Avarice hummed. “Yes and how many people hear that from you _every_ day?”

Long, elegant fingers curled under her jaw. Their touch echoed right down to her belly. “Many.” Evelynn murmured. “But _nobody_ has ever come here.” Fenrir didn’t know if she should, but she believed that.

“Why me?” the mage summoned up the courage to ask. “Why did you pick me, from the beginning?”

Evelynn gazed at her under her long lashes. Considered her reply for a moment. “Because for as long as I had been in the League, the Rift had always been the same as outside. I feel things only then I make them _bleed_.” the curve of her mouth was nothing short of heartless. “But with you –it was so strange– I could sometimes pick up your emotions as if they were my own.” was said, although quickly followed by: “Useless emotions like _empathy_ , of course, but at least I got a vague idea of what it’s like.”

For a while, they drank together in silence.

It shouldn’t be as easy as it was –to be near her, yet it was forbidden to _want_ to be next to her.

Avarice was starting to worry. Her eye kept being drawn to the curve of Evelynn’s jaw, too often. She felt the ghost of those inviting lips on her neck on every sip of her drink. Everything she’d supressed for days was rising right back up like the tide compelled by the moon to rise.

“Hey –it’s my bedtime.” Avarice used it as an excuse to get herself in order, to get air into her lungs that wasn’t tainted by Evelynn’s heavenly scent. The demoness allowed her to stand, then begrudgingly followed suit to accompany her out.

“Are you still scared of me?” Evelynn asked, standing close without smothering her like she usually did when she wanted to get her way.

Avarice wasn’t expecting the question, nor did she know how to answer it. She didn’t even want to think it all the way through, because if those past days and all that meditation told her anything, it was that she didn’t fear Evelynn half as much as she feared what Evelynn made her _feel_.

 _I’m scared of_ everything _._ Avarice thought bitterly. 

“Or scared to feel good with me, after how they’ve violated your body?”

The words burned. The truth burned. Avarice had been burning for so long she was _terrified_ that her body could still give the reactions Evelynn’s proximity caused. She was ashamed, as if it was a cardinal sin to seek out pleasure after being ruined all the way down to the soul –after being used to ruin _others_.

Succulent lips leaned closer, pressing a single brush of a kiss to the side of her neck.

Avarice’s skin lit up. A sweet, hollow ache gnawed at her gut.

Evelynn slipped away, halfway into turning to show her out—

Fenrir grasped the crook of her elbow like a lifeline. “Evelynn—” she said, asking for something words couldn’t convey. Their eyes met.

The demoness moved.

The next second, Avarice was pressed against the nearest glass wall, with the diva’s tongue hot inside her mouth. Common sense screamed to run, yet it was completely overshadowed by her body’s more primitive cravings.

She’d wanted this for so _long_.

Evelynn angled her head up and pressed harder into her. She was danger and desire in their rawest form; her kiss a reminder of why hurricanes were named after people. Avarice met her lips in equal pressure, reason fading fast as her hands snaked their way up the woman’s damningly tight top.

The second her thumb brushed over Evelynn’s lacy bra, an alarm went off in the back of Avarice’s head. _Gods, what am I doing?_

“No, no.” Evelynn breathed against her lips. “Don’t pull away.” It was both a demand and a request. Hungry gold stared into an abyss of blue. “Stop resisting. Come to me.”

Intense heat drew back as the demoness retreated. She gave Avarice an enticing look, then turned into the darkness of the corridor, daring her to follow. The summoner licked her lower lip and tasted Evelynn there.

She didn’t want to be afraid anymore.

Foolish as it may have been, Avarice went after her. The diva grabbed her wrist as soon as she climbed the first step, pulled her along all the way to her bedroom. Fenrir felt a push and soon her back landed into the mattress, Evelynn on all fours on top of her like the predator she was.

Lips crashed on her own before she could start doubting her decision. Evelynn covered her like smoke, slipping through every pore, that touch everywhere at once. Pearly teeth tugged at her lower lip. The demoness’ mouth moved to the soft spot under her jaw, driving Avarice _insane_ with arousal–

Until her nails pressed to the taut flesh of her stomach, under her shirt.

Vivid images of blades cutting into her skin flashed before Fenrir’s mind.

She instinctively seized up. Lifted her hands to push the diva off.

Evelynn caught them and pinned them over her head, slowly. Her hold was incredibly loose, a steady weight instead of a binding chain. She drew back to gaze down at her, expression so calm compared to Avarice’s flushed neck, set jaw, tense forehead. “You have nothing to fear. I won’t do anything you won’t like.” Long fingers slipped through her own. “Is this better?”

Avarice let the tension drain from her shoulders. “Yeah, this is good.” she said quietly. Evelynn leaned back down, doing all sorts of wicked things to her neck with her lips and tongue. The first press of teeth had the summoner arching again, but not from discomfort.

The champion guided Fenrir’s hands to the hem of her shirt and urged her to push it off. A waterfall of purple hair fell free over flawless pale skin, the image so staggeringly erotic. Avarice chased the smooth expanse of her neck, thirsty for more. Evelynn let her do as she pleased, but the mage knew their pleasure was not the same.

“Can you feel this?” she asked, lips brushing over a non-existent pulse with the words.

“Barely.” Evelynn replied.

Avarice considered what she’d said about their old summoning bond and an idea sprang to mind. Her magic wasn’t what it had once been, no longer bright and brimming with good intentions, but Evelynn didn’t resist the pull of the connection, curious to see what she was doing. Avarice hesitated to bear herself, completely, but she let her most prominent sensations flow through the current of the bond.

When she pressed her lips to Evelynn’s neck the second time, the demoness shifted.

“Somewhat better?” Avarice looked into her eyes. Evelynn was as expressionless as a gorgeous statue, for all of two seconds.

Then she was kissing her, deep and dominating, pressing so tightly into her it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Evelynn no longer seemed a controlled sort of hungry, rather, ravenous for more. For _everything_. In the feverish haze, Avarice had no idea when their clothes were stripped right down to undergarments.

The demoness moved a little –straddled one of her thighs. The first slide of her hot, wet center over her leg made Avarice’s head fall back. Eyes closed, mouth parted in shallow gasps. 

Evelynn moved again –and hissed air through her teeth, by Fenrir’s ear. Which, in turn, made the mage all the more dripping for her. Avarice met the next insistent roll of her hips, a broken moan torn out of her vocal cords. She could feel a pressure low in her rising, swelling to burst—

The demoness caught her hand from her waist and pushed it down their fronts, into her panties. “ _Touch_ me.” she ordered with such possessive wanting, _longing_ —

Avarice came apart the second she slid a finger over the woman. Shook and quaked, wrecked with pleasure enough to make her eyes roll, as the diva shivered on top.

When the wildfire died down to sizzling embers, Avarice was overcome with too many things at once; realization that she’d just had sex with _Evelynn_ , who was a demon that got off on torture, who got off on top of her, and that was the hottest thing she’d _ever_ experienced, but she was growing scared,

Because this was all she used to dream of in the past but she was no longer that girl—

Who _loved_ her—

Avarice severed their connection like a thousand-degree-burning knife cutting through butter. Evelynn only then opened her eyes, giving her an almost accusatory look.

 _How much of that did she feel?_ Avarice worried.

“Do that again.” Evelynn demanded, but Fenrir shook her head. Ocean orbs scanned the room for her clothes.

“I’m tired.” she lied. The truth was, she was panicked.

“Well, you can sleep here.” Evelynn turned in her bed, laying on her side and elbow like a satisfied cat. 

“I’ve flirted with enough danger for one night.” Avarice tried not to blush at how the demoness blinked slow, watching her get dressed. She also tried not to find the playful pout of her mouth deadly-attractive.

Evelynn lazily rolled to the side of the massive bed, sitting up. She reached forward and grabbed Avarice’s arm, turned her so they were facing each other. Fenrir wasn’t used to looking down at the demoness. “Don’t panic and avoid me for another week.”

“I won’t.” Avarice nodded, not so certain about the ‘don’t panic’ part. Evelynn pulled her in by the shirt for a brief kiss. She licked the summoner’s lips and pulled back with a smirk. Avarice forcefully ripped her gaze away from the bare skin smugly on display, turning towards the door with a small “Goodnight.”

By the time she teleported back to the Institute, Fenrir was exhausted. It was only after she crashed into her bed that she realized her mana pool was entirely depleted, that Evelynn must have drawn every last bit out of her. She silenced the part of her wanting to say it was worth it.

 _Holy shit._ She thought, shoving her red face into her pillow. The area between her legs ached for more. Her body was still haunted by Evelynn’s touch. She’d thought maybe tasting it would make the maddening craving end, but she should have known ecstasy was known to be addictive.

 _What did I do…_ Avarice had no idea how to even _picture_ going near her again without bursting into flames.

At least she was alive and in one piece to worry about such things, she mused. There should probably be a world record for that.

There was no way to rationalize it, what she and the demoness had. Perhaps it was the law of nature at its finest, that opposites should attract. That the closer they got, the harder the pull was to resist. But even opposites had things in common, whether Avarice liked to admit it or not.

And above all, she and Evelynn were both cursed existences, who wanted to feel something good again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Our two lovebirds finally got their *ahem* quality time together. There comes a moment when a bad idea takes up so much space in your head you want to make it happen just to be rid of it, but little does Avarice know ;). Not to mention it's definitely a first for 'I only do one night stands -all my exes are dead' Evelynn to leave somebody alive after. But little does she also know, she's gonna reconsider her stance on her one-time things after Avarice got creative with their summoning bond. She was desperate to feel -and she definitely felt that one. 
> 
> I was listening to 'BTS- Fake Love' while writing this chapter. Absolutely recommend the Teflon Sega version of it, it's super sexy and relaxing. 
> 
> Looking forward to hearing your thoughts. Stay cool, stay at home and see you next week! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**[Evelynn]**

Magenta hair spilled over a crimson pillow like an abstract painting.

Evelynn’s mind was still in a daze after the past hour’s activities. She almost couldn’t comprehend the bone-deep satisfaction that hugged her form like a velvet veil, a feeling akin to floating in a pool of warm, scented water after a kill. But the fact no blood had to be drawn for it was the most staggering of all; a revelation if she’d ever had any.

And to think the sensation she wrecked the world apart for, clawed and ripped her way towards only to have it slip further away each time had been so close for so _long_. 

If she had known that was how _good_ it was going to feel –that it would _feel_ like anything at all— she would have bedded Avarice the day she met her. A victorious smirk curled her lips at the thought the girl wouldn’t even have thought to say no. The summoner had been so desperately into her. It was nothing new, of course, but from her it had been endearing. Although, Evelynn mused, pursuing the colder, sexier version was its own reward.

Oh, how she’d wanted to continue…

She nearly overpowered Avarice into staying under her but controlled herself _just_ enough to let her slip away. Patience was key. The demoness knew the girl was afraid. Battling her desires constantly, ashamed even to have them. The matter needed delicate handling. Push too much and she would lose it all, left with nothing once more. And after tasting pleasure for the first time in ages, she was _not_ going to go without it.

Evelynn already needed it again.

But was pleasure even the right word? It wasn’t the same as torture, even back when she’d been able to come from it. A living creature’s agony was a sensation closer to sharp spikes of heat biting into her, irresistible and all-encompassing, though fading so _fast_. Sex with Avarice was subtle warmth creeping down her stomach, dripping down her thighs, intense in a softer way yet no less addictive. Maybe more so.

And the sheer act of drawing her energy into her empty being… it reminded Evelynn of swimming in an ocean at night, while a storm raged across the skies. Lightning flashing throughout the dark. The air electrified with it, with the raw pull of the arcane. 

Fenrir had locked it all away, of course. Hadn’t let her take much –brought up walls and seals in her mind, in her very essence, to keep her contained exactly where she chose.

Evelynn was already _dying_ to taste the full force of that storm, the crackling power and sheer _feeling_ that would course through her veins. But Avarice was smart to create a pocket space and hold her there. Her little genius.

Because if she hadn’t, Evelynn wasn’t certain that she could contain herself.

And instead of taking just a little more…

She would take _everything_.

...

Evelynn’s back hit the rough bark of an old tree with force she only pretended to register. Her victim for the night was getting a little bold with his touching and the demoness wasn’t really in any mood to play.

A tiny push sent him staggering back. The accusation in his eyes was obvious –as obvious, she imagined, as the complete lack of interest in her own. It was more mind-numbing than fun to play the aroused maiden, at that point. There was an insistent nagging in the back of her mind that she shouldn’t waste _any_ more hours with trash than she had to, because she was technically dying and could really find better uses for the time.

“Like,” she huffed at him, sending a blonde fringe flying with the puff of air. “How am I supposed to go to a diet salad after tasting the world’s most _delicious_ steak?”

He gave her a confused look through his lust-iddled gaze. Probably assumed her drunk and once again slid closer...

“What I mean, honey, is.” she began. “You are all…” Her form started to break and distort under her expensive dress, showing the darkness underneath. He didn’t notice, too busy trying to undo the buttons of his pants. “So…” She leaned closer to his ear. “Incredibly…” Nails pressed to his stomach. “ _Dull_.”

A broken scream echoed through the night.

Slitted yellow eyes stared down at the man bent in horror, widening in morbid fascination. 

“We gotta be quick about this, hon.” She said, sinking her claws into his chest and drawing them _down_. Heat blossomed across her gut, but it wasn’t everything she looked forward to, anymore. “I got places to be.”

The forest was filled with the man’s singing…

Until his voice was silenced for good.

After she was done feeding on his life, Evelynn stood and stretched. Rolled her neck, willing the shadows away for the skin she’d chosen as her default, her favorite, her ultimate piece of art. Ashen blonde hair turned vibrant mauve, yellow eyes dimmed to molten ambers. Lips black as the night glossed over an attractive purple and Evelynn turned to leave—

But the man she’d thought dead raised his hand towards her with his final bit of strength. His pinky finger barely brushed her ankle.

Evelynn suddenly shook with a burst of primal rage.

She turned, visage demonic, lashers gleaming razor-lines in the dark. Shreds of what had once been a person remained on the crimson-painted soil. 

“ _Nobody_ touches this form.” she stated, voice distorted and devilish.

 _Only_ she _touches this form_. Her mind corrected, seconds later.

...

With the Cult in shambles, nearly all their leaders eviscerated, the two of them didn’t have an excuse to see each other often.

Evelynn’s scedule was brimming with recordings for K/DA’s new album. Avarice’s focus was on her matches. After which, apparently, the girl seemed to have forgotten that smartphones and texts were a thing. The demoness waited to see just _how_ long it would take for her to remember. The answer was yet indefinite.

The diva decided on a walk around the studio just to have a change of scenery. She absently cast her gaze over the fancy stores in the area, window-shopping through her break until the time came to have to go back in for the same shit all over again.

Evelynn passed by designer stores, fancy accessories... until she came to a sudden halt before a high-end jewellery shop. Her eye had always been attracted to shiny things, so it was no surprise. But what magnetized her gaze in that moment did so not so much with its flare, as with everything else about it.

The pair of earrings proudly on display at the forefront of the glass stood out like a sapphire under clear water, refracting the light in an inner, magnetic, mysterious sheen. In an image she couldn’t shake, the demoness was reminded of someone’s eyes. Of all of her, how Avarice always stood apart from the crowd without being the most luminous star in the sky –but always the prettiest.

The woman behind the counter did a double take upon recognizing Evelynn.

“I want these ones.” the diva said, pointing to the pair.

“A-ah yes, of course. Only… those are limited-edition royal mystic stones.” the shopkeeper spoke hurriedly.

“And can only be found in the deepest caves at the heart of Freljord. I know.” Evelynn continued for her, leaving no room for further hesitance. “Do I look like money is an issue?” she smirked, all savage charm, _daring_ the human to estimate how much her clothes and necklaces alone costed. 

Evelynn exited the shop with her gift wrapped up in a small box. She smiled to herself, then pulled out her phone and typed a quick text to Avarice. A string of kissing emojis were sent, absent words.

Seconds later, Fenrir text back: _‘_ _Νο_ _.’_

_‘Would you rather I send you the kisses through TV on my next interview? ;)’_

_‘No!’_ the answer came almost instantly. The diva spontaneously hit the call button, just to hear her voice, picture her going red that much easier. _“Stop harassing me, I’m in the waiting queue.”_ Avarice grumbled on the other line.

“And I’m on break from Ahri’s endless bitching.” Evelynn said. “What time are we meeting later?”

 _“We aren’t. ‘Later’ will be late and I’m tired.”_ Avarice spoke quietly, probably so the rest of the summoners around her wouldn’t hear. _“And hungry.”_

An image of a puppy needing to be fed sprung to the forefront of Evelynn’s mind. “I can take you to a nice restaurant.” she suggested. “Best macaroni in Runeterra.” It helped that she knew Avarice’s favorite food. Favorite everything, actually. A cute groan came from the summoner. “And before you say it’s too public, they have a VIP lounge with private booths and everything.”

Fenrir was sold. _“Alright. I’ll be outside the gate at eleven.”_

“See you there, darling.”

Evelynn went back to the studio sporting the world’s most self-satisfied smirk on her face. Akali and Kai’sa, both dead from dancing all day for their video clip, turned to give her a _look_.

“Who are you and what have you done to Evelynn?” Akali asked from her position, sprawled out over the arm of a couch. The demoness shrugged. “Oh wait, I forgot we don’t _all_ have infinite energy.” she threw a pointed glare both her and Ahri, who was adjusting her outfit like exhaustion was a word foreign to her vocabulary.

“Hey Akali.” Evelynn leaned down closer to her. Whispered low, so only she could hear: “I bet this is but a _tiny_ little workout for Katarina Du Couteau.”

The assassin was up on her feet as if she just got injected with an adrenaline shot. Kai’sa laughed. Ahri shook her head at Evelynn. The demoness checked her _Cartier_ watch. She’d be done before eleven for _sure_.

...

Their private booth was all set up and waiting for them by the corner of the restraunt, just as Evelynn had requested. The table with the most beautiful view of the city lights, almost as if they were laid out before their feet, a pathway of glitter and glow.

The demoness sat next to Avarice, not too close to intimidate but enough to easily lean in and kiss her when she wanted to. And she’d wanted to since the girl slid into the passenger seat of her car. Fenrir, however, seemed ten different types of tired, so she chose not to press her, for the time being.

While they were waiting for Avarice’s order, Evelynn casually laid the beautiful giftbox on the table between them. “For you.” she said, taking a delicate sip of her red wine.

“I’m not opening it because I’m sure it’s expensive as hell.” Avarice glanced at the box, then up at her. “The food is more than enough.”

“It’s not that expensive.” Evelynn lied. Put on her most charming face as she nudged the box closer. She knew for a fact nobody could say no to that expression, born straight out of a darling dream.

Avarice carefully took the gift. Examined it. Opened it. “Oh –wow.” She took a breath that was never released. It was difficult to pretend she didn’t like it after that.

Evelynn wordlessly pulled the earrings out of their silver bed and secured them on her ears. Leaned back, to admire her masterpiece. The mystic stones complimented the deep azure of Fenrir’s eyes as though they were made for them. As though the gems lingered in the womb of the earth for centuries, hoping for the eventual honor of dangling down to her pretty jawline.

It was like Evelynn made a gift to herself, considering the view was hers to savor. She kept her nails barely brushing the underside of the mage’s chin in a subtle sign of ownership. Avarice’s gaze darkened as it fell on her palm—

And the moment was broken by the waiter, arriving with a steaming plate in hand that drew the _entirety_ of the girl’s attention. Evelynn never thought she’d almost be envious of smoked, cheese-sprinkled macaroni.

“Gods –how chic.” the man gasped, unable to take his eyes off the earrings. “Limited edition, forty thousand gold mystic stones. Gorgeous.” he commented. “Enjoy your food, my ladies.” 

Avarice turned to her, eyes wide. Her mouth moved in a speechless ‘ _what_?’.

Evelynn thought the expression was easily worth forty thousand by itself.

She could predict the girl’s next move without even trying. Fenrir immediately reached to take them off –and the demoness immediately grabbed her hands and pinned them on her lap. “Eve, I’m not going to wear earrings that cost as much as my house—”

“Yes, you will. I’m not taking them back.” Evelynn stated, only then noticing that Avarice shortened her name like the old times. Except it was hard to focus on _anything_ when those damn stones looked so unearthly attractive on her.

Azure met shimmering amber. Calculatedly slow, the diva leaned in. She tasted fine wine on Avarice’s tongue and the distant call of arcane magic. It took formidable willpower to pull back when Fenrir was, perhaps for the first time, leaning into her, but Evelynn had her plans for the night. All in due time.

“Eat your food before you faint on me.” she said.

Avarice’s lips curved into a rare, soft smile as she turned back to her plate.

Maybe most of her expressions were worth a ton of gold but that one…

That one was priceless. 

...

The gentle rumble of Evelynn’s Aston Martin died down with a humm outside Avarice’s house. Following another turn of the key, the radio turned off, leaving the pair bathed in comfortable silence.

Fenrir wasn’t in a rush to leave this time, which was certainly progress, although her hand was resting on the door’s handle, a subconscious need to feel the escape available if needed. The demoness regarded her with a playful gleam in her eye.

“You’re welcome.” she smirked.

Avarice made a _tsk_ sound. “The food was nice.”

“Implying the company wasn’t?” A hand was pressed over her heart in mock-hurt. Evelynn put on her best wounded impression, too.

“Well…” A smirk and then nothing. The summoner opened the door just a crack, ready to go. Evelynn reacted faster, hooked a finger under her chin and guided her face back to her. Close to her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, keeping the predatory undertones out of her voice so as to not scare her. It was a game of scales she played around Avarice and the balance always had to be _just_ right. One move too far, one word too much or even a look kept unchecked could end her fun prematurely. Thankfully, the girl didn’t pull away. Merely raised an eyebrow –and parted her lips when Evelynn’s pressed against them.

But the second the demoness went to deepen the kiss, led on by the taste of her emotions –her _want_ – Avarice drew back and she _had_ to let her. The demoness felt the faintest trace of something at the edge of her constant void. Disappointment or aggravation, she couldn’t tell. It was off-putting how she’d had Avarice but didn’t really feel she _had_ her –owned her— while everyone else threw their souls at her feet for the slightest caress.

She wasn’t used to it.

Avarice was already out her car by the time Evelynn spoke up. “You’re not going to invite me in, darling?”

“Like you’re not going to trespass anyway.” Fenrir replied tiredly over her shoulder, walking towards her door.

The demoness actually had to take a moment to consider her next move. _That’s not a ‘yes’, a ‘no’ or even a ‘maybe’, hon._ Or worse, it was all three at the same time. _Someone give this girl an award for most mixed signals in_ all _of history._ Evelynn eventually decided _fuck it_ and gracefully slipped out of her car, locked it and followed the summoner inside.

The diva claimed the couch as her own, comfortably leaning back into the cushions. Avarice was shrugging off her jacket and arranging her things for bed. “So it doesn’t bother you if I’m around again while you sleep?” As soon as she said it, she hoped the mage ignored her tiny slip-up.

“It does but if you’re going to be here anyway I may as well be aware of it.” Avarice said from the other room. “Wait—” A sharp pause. “‘Again’?” She did notice it. Her head peeked out of the corridor, expecting the answer like a bomb about to go off.

“I _may_ have watched you sleep in the past.” Evelynn waved it off as casually as possible. “Once or twice.” _Or almost every night when I didn’t have anything better to do._

“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.” Avarice stated, then went back to her bedroom. Continued undressing, judging by the sound of fabric sliding on skin. Evelynn went a little impatient, a little possessive, because she should be the one taking those tight dark jeans off. She shifted. It really shouldn’t feel like she was the one being seduced and out of her element.

“You had a lot of wet dreams about me.” Evelynn smirked sinfully, reclaiming her power and control of the situation. She was almost _certain_ Avarice was flushing crimson in her silence.

“Shut up.” The girl said, pink by the time she came back to the living room to retrieve her phone. The device happened to be on the table by Evelynn’s knees… and as soon as she reached for it the demoness pulled her back onto the couch. Climbed on top of her, quick as a shadow. The diva’s forearms beside her head and thighs around her own might as well have been unbreakable walls. Fed as she was, there was no escaping her hold until she allowed it.

“You can tell me about them.” Evelynn whispered close, gaze smouldering hot as it pinned Avarice down in its own way. “We can even re-enact one right now.” The words were spoken across Fenrir’s jawline, a caress of lips, all the way to her ear. The sudden warmth of her arousal was downright _intoxicating_ as it tickled over Evelynn’s demon-senses.

“Eve…” Avarice’s hands settled at her waist, equal parts push and pull.

“Was it anything like this?” Evelynn asked, pure, heady seduction, sliding her hand under the girl’s t-shirt and down her firm stomach. “Or… this?” Her fingers slid lower, past the waistband of underwear. Avarice’s neck fell back with a small gasp. Open and exposed for her, to mouth at every spot she knew would drive the summoner crazy. Moist lips latched onto a non-beating pulse. Gave a soft suck.

“ _Fuck_.” Avarice swore, tensing up. For how tough she acted, she got so wet under her so easily.

“Bond with me.” It came out more demanding than she meant it to, accented by a growl. Evelynn _needed_ to feel her pleasure. She’d needed it for _days_. It was all she could do to keep things slow and controlled, but her restraint was waning.

Avarice let out a puff of air. Reached to her through her magic, weaving it into her being with her permission, in the way only summoners could. She once again put up walls and seals to keep her in check, away from her mind or her deepest-rooted emotions, her secrets, her very essence. Evelynn didn’t really care to test the strength of those barriers, rational thought already slipping away at the echoes of sheer _rapture_ slowly streaming into her body.

“Don’t keep from me how badly this turns you on.” Evelynn panted against that pale, sensitive neck, coaxing Avarice to share more with her.

A thought struck her that wasn’t her own, which sent a tingle of flattery down her spine. Avarice _adored_ the sound of her voice. Maybe even enough to come just from her talking dirty to her ear. She’d have to test that later for _sure_.

Impatient, the demoness slipped a finger into tight, wet heat. Didn’t even consider teasing as she moved, out and then curling in, pushing them both past the point of no return…

 _Holy shit Evelynn_! Avarice’s voice echoed in the back of her mind through her crushing waves of ecstasy. It was different without the space-difference of the real world and the Rift to tone it far and distant, a little disorienting, intimate in a way summoning normally wasn’t.

There was a tiny slip somewhere along the line of Avarice getting her thoughts in order –just before she terminated their bond.

There was something in her head she was afraid Evelynn would _see_.

Then again, there were many locked doors she didn’t want the demoness to glimpse behind. The diva decided to file the information for another day, perhaps even never, and enjoy the satisfaction humming under her skin. She lazily stretched her body over Avarice. Stayed there, unmoving. It was almost as if… she could forget the void, for a while.

That had never been possible.

But she wondered who she would be, if it had.

It was ironic how Avarice flushed red at the idea of having sex with her, _after_ having sex with her. Evelynn only leaned back to admire the adorable view of her _not_ able to meet her gaze.

A small, unforced laugh escaped the diva. “You should have told me my voice does all these _things_ to you.” she teased, extra spice in her voice. Avarice positively _shoved_ her aside.

“Shut up, I’m going to bed!” she said quickly, grabbing her phone and making her way towards the corridor. “And you’re _not_ invited.” She stopped to say.

“Your bedroom is part of the house, so yes, honey, I am.” Evelynn stated matter-of-factly.

“Do _not_ come into my room.” Avarice warned sternly, before the door shut between them. 

Evelynn shrugged and kicked off her high heels, turned the television on to some random league channel, the volume turned so incredibly low even Avarice’s enhanced senses wouldn’t pick up the sound. The girl had a long day and she needed her sleep. She tossed and turned for a while, but eventually drifted off into the land of dreams.

It was hours later that Evelynn’s own sleep-like state was broken by a noise coming from her bedroom. Cat-like eyes opened, sharp senses focusing into a single point. On her. Avarice was breathing hard, but it wasn’t in any good way. Not chocking from pleasure, but from something else.

Evelynn turned completely towards her direction. A broken sound escaped her throat –it could have been a whimper or a muffled cry. Pain and so much _fear_ blossomed in her energy. Raw, crushing. The diva was at her door in a heartbeat.

She hesitated to open it.

She could wake Avarice up, sure, but the girl would kick her out if she opened her eyes and saw her there. She’d made it clear the door separating them was the _one_ barrier the demoness was not to pass. And it wasn’t like Evelynn was there to fight her battles, much less chase away her fears. Hers was not a noble existence, not a guardian angel there to rescue her –she was a demon, far more likely to condemn her.

Everything she did, she _ever_ did, was for her own gain.

She stood to lose far more than she had to gain from freeing Avarice from her nightmare.

Evelynn walked back to the couch and sat down.

 _It doesn’t matter. It’ll be over soon._ She told herself. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she was all too aware of the fact Avarice was crying.

And although she couldn’t tell half her barely-there-if-at-all emotions apart more often than not…

She could tell, with absolute certainty, she didn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cult's in hiding after all the members they lost and trying to gather the last of their resources, which leaves me time to explore the relationship of our protagonists at my leisure *insert evil laugh*. That being said... yes, Evelynn is horny, pass it on. So is Avarice, but our girl is much better at resisting her desires. I absolutely love dynamics that have the Sin-Virtue vibe. And so does Eve, apparently, wanting to spoil Avarice so far there's no coming back from it. Ruin her for everyone else, so to speak. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, I cannot stress how much your comments mean to me. Take care of yourselves. Until next week :)


	15. Chapter 15

**[Avarice]**

Avarice was no stranger to nightmares.

She’d lived one. Some nights it felt she still was, trapped in that underground hell, the air thick in her lungs as she gasped for help. While masks flocked around her, pushing blades into her flesh –into her eyes. The sensation of her crawling under her own skin never truly went away, but she’d gotten better at ignoring it. During the day.

At night it was always bad, she had accepted the horrors would haunt her for eternity, perhaps her deserved punishment for the depraved things she was forced to do to innocents, with her soul dangling by a chain in the hands of those monsters. She went to bed expecting the nightmares more often than not.

But their nature had changed, as of late.

Avarice no longer screamed on top of altars or watched her friends die for her unwanted immortality. Instead she was in the pitch black, surrounded by something she couldn’t see but could very faintly _feel_ , like a chill at the back of one’s neck in a long-abandoned building. The shadows had no eyes, but they had a will, pushing against her subconscious. Testing the limits of her seals, skittering and searching, threatening to break her sanity in new ways.

She resisted –and watching the world burn was her penalty for it. Her loved ones first, then everybody else.

That morning was no different.

Avarice startled awake, her pillow wet with tears and twin imprints running down her cheeks. She scanned the house for any other presence there besides her own –and she didn’t really know, or want to know, if it was relief or disappointment that flashed through her upon realizing Evelynn’s darkness was nowhere to be seen.

Fenrir stood and walked over to her living room. She avoided looking at the couch where the diva had straddled and taken her the previous night at all costs–instead turning towards her fridge.

On the counter beside it, a single napkin, out of place, glared at her. There was a very distinct purple imprint of lips left upon it, with two hearts and a winking face drawn underneath.

Avarice huffed. Shook her head at the sight. A shy smile tip-toed its way to her mouth, accompanied by a strange warm feeling in her stomach, but she made sure to erase every last trace of both.

Evelynn wasn’t her girlfriend.

Except, with all the charm and attention, it was getting increasingly difficult to remind herself of what she _was_.

 _Hypocrite._ A part of her whispered. _She’s very attractive now that she’s wearing her best smile for you, isn’t she?_

Avarice ducked her head in shame. Loneliness, or her instinctive aversion to touch by anyone who wasn’t her, weren’t good enough excuses as to what she was doing. She didn’t want to think about it because then she’d have to justify it –and she couldn’t. Wanting Evelynn was familiar. Being around her almost made her feel like herself again. Being _under_ her, needed _by_ her, was exhilarating and so good…

But.

That didn’t change the demoness’ body count. All the people who had to die screaming, just so Avarice could feel special under that pretty smile. There was no guarantee, even, that she wouldn’t one day join them. In fact, it was the most likely scenario. Not that she truly cared about her outcome, as long as the cult went down with her.

 _Huh._ She chuckled miserably. _Makes sense that I can’t even have a_ normal _relationship. The universe really made sure to give me the short end of the stick at every aspect, didn’t it._

Avarice pushed the napkin away, into an unused drawer, so she wouldn’t have to see it. Buried it, somewhere light wouldn’t reach, like the rest of her issues. Pretended they didn’t exist.

Then she grabbed her summoner robes and headed outside.

…

The afternoon sun was a pleasant warmth on the back of her neck as Avarice exited the arena, after her final match of the day. She’d managed to secure four victories out of five games, breaking the nerve-wracking stalemate of being stuck at the same division. The grass seemed a little greener after the high of the win-streak, the air just a tad cleaner. 

“You know,” Warwick began, drawing her ocean gaze to the amused gleam in his own. “You’re a _nightmare_ to have to play against. I would dodge every match against you if I was a summoner.” A rumble of a laugh shook his chest.

Avarice scrunched her nose, waved off the smile growing on her lips. “ _No_ , I kinda suck very early on.” she thought out loud. “And if I’m honest I still haven’t gotten entirely comfortable with the red smite.” After having the chill of the blue variant practically engraved into her magic –through endless hours of practice with and without Evelynn, _for_ Evelynn– it felt like part of her always lagged upon calling forth the burn of the fiery version.

“Says she who steals barons and dragons like a woman possessed.” Warwick’s upper lip curled into a wolfish grin. It would be terrifying, if Avarice hadn’t grown accustomed to it.

The azure of her eyes shifted from the giant wolf beside her to the commotion far in the distance, drawing closer like a sandstorm… or a cloud of paparazzi following celebrities around for the next big scoop. Avarice’s first instinct was to hide behind Warwick, until she realized there were much bigger fish around for the lens to track.

K/DA was there, dressed to kill, making their way towards the nearby studio usually reserved for photoshoots and promotional clips. They seemed to be sharing a common, classy theme of black and white for the occasion, but the summoner couldn’t be entirely certain about it, when her eyes glued to only _one_ of them.

Avarice’s breath stopped somewhere between her lungs and her throat.

It shouldn’t be such a shock to see Evelynn in dark pants and a low-cut white sleeveless top. For a wardrobe as massive as hers, the chances of it consisting solely of mini-skirts and dresses were abysmally low. So, really, the sight, although unusual, shouldn’t make her gut flush with something so insistent and hot. Alas, that was precisely what happened.

“This particular chilling smite is bad for you.” Warwick’s voice was but a faint background noise in her ears. The words completely passed her by.

Evelynn, as if attuned to Avarice’s senses, subtly turned her head and raised her sunglasses, long enough to throw her a criminally sexy wink across the yard. It almost held physical impact; made her that much more aware of the cool kiss the deep blue earrings dangling down her ears occasionally pressed to her jawline.

_Gods, her lips there…_

“You’re staring.” Warwick commented, blunt as a sledgehammer. Only then did she snap out of the trance.

Fenrir quickly turned back to him, expression schooled into casual disinterest. “No I’m not.” she lied both to her champion and to herself.

The wolf did not seem convinced.

They entered an unspoken staring competition.

Warwick eventually huffed. Long, furry ears flattered atop his head. “Little wolf.” he said. The way the nickname was spoken, rather than the choice of words, caused Avarice’s eyelids to widen. “I worry for you.”

She opened her mouth to reassure him, that everything would be alright, that she knew what she was doing, yet failed to do so. Her jaw clenched closed. The truth was, she had no clue what she was doing. She was lost, afraid and drifting, less a mythical predator and more a leaf cut from its tree, wandering aimlessly, wherever the wind would take it. And where her path had taken her was no safe place.

She could deny it until her final breath, but considering the reactions she had to repress around Evelynn the past days…

She was worried for herself, too.

…

The League certainly loved its fancy events, that was a given.

From balls, to pool-parties, to fundraisers and to the award show Avarice was invited to for the night, the Institute was clear on trying to foster deeper connections between its summoners and champions. It was for a noble cause, of course. New mages often didn’t have the courage to walk up to their favorite champions and start up a conversation, usually staying safe in anonymity, behind faceless summoning bonds. Which, of course, would never get them far. Avarice had been there, she understood how awkward those first steps could be.

Which still didn’t mean she had any intention of attending. At least she didn’t, until Warwick told her they’d be getting a medal for most objectives secured within the past three months.

Fenrir begrudgingly fished one of her better outfits from her closet. _At least there won’t be any cameras allowed_. she mused. The thought offered some comfort, although pictures would leak into the net one way or another.

Avarice stepped past the crystal-lit threshold of the modified chamber before a very gruff wolf. Soft music reached her ears, a melody rather than a song. Her vision immediately filled with both familiar and unfamiliar faces, socializing in a cosy atmosphere. There was a delicious-looking buffet on the side and a slightly elevated stage where the main event would take place.

The summoner lingered long enough to get her award –and then get the hell out. The eyes that fell on her, some in reverence, others in envy, were an uncomfortable whisper over her skin she didn’t really want to deal with, for longer than strictly necessary.

The exit was close enough to feel the cool rush of air from the outside—

But Avarice’s wrist was snatched in a warm grip, a few steps off the escape.

She would recognize the pressure of that touch anywhere. Didn’t even have to see Evelynn pull her aside, into a small sideroom most people would never even notice existed, to know it was her.

The protest at the tip of her tongue died there at the sight of the diva. _Holy—_

Hungry ambers for eyes fell over her appreciatively, the mauve hair framing them stylishly swept to the side and cascading over a black-and-purple top like a fine piece of art. Then those damn _pants_ from earlier that day completed the killer look. Evelynn smiled down at her, a winning smile, holding her chin between two fingers the way she so often did.

“Going so soon?” she asked in her deep, smooth voice.

And Avarice… _really_ had to try to remember what words were supposed to be. It didn’t make any sense, because Evelynn was always gorgeous –on the outside, _only_ on the outside— so why was it hitting it her so powerfully in that moment?

Stop _looking at how long her legs look in those fucking pants._

“Uh… yeah.” Avarice took a subtle breath –a terrible mistake, as it carried Evelynn’s sinfully wonderful scent with it— and replied.

The demoness’ brow furrowed the faintest bit. Then a knowing, smug smirk tugged at those wondrous lips. “Like what you see, darling?” Her tongue curled around the ‘r’s and ‘l’s of the word and Avarice _didn’t_ want to notice, much less be aroused by it.

She was.

“Well… it’s different.” It was a wonder her voice obeyed the command to be steady, that time. 

The back of Evelynn’s fingers brushed her jawbone. Nails followed a vein down her neck. All of it slow, deliberate. Avarice’s skin sang. “I can make a point to wear them more often, if they turn you on this much.” A throaty chuckle, that went straight between the summoner’s legs. “You can take them off for me.” Evelynn smirked, liquid desire, pulling her hands to her hips.

“Stop.” Avarice regained some sense of self. Only a tiny bit. Her eyes flitted nervously to the door. “Anyone could come in here.”

“I’ll stop if you dance with me outside.”

“Absolutely not.” Just the _thought_ of so many pairs of eyes on them…

“We’ll be at the corner. Everybody is drunk and slow-dancing with their partners.” Small tugs at her arm already had her nearly outside. “No one will care to look at us.”

“ _One_ song.” she relented.

Avarice didn’t have the strength of will, in that moment, to resist her. She let herself be led back into the more open space, turned into a dance floor where, indeed, everyone seemed preoccupied with another. Evelynn took them to an alcove mostly out of view, movements fluid, flowing to the rhythm of the music. One with it. Owning it.

“Look at me.” The demoness demanded, stepping so close they stood nearly flush against each other. “Look _only_ at me.” she said, as her arms snaked around her shoulders, nails dragging against her back in the process. A possessive hand rose to curl at her nape. Avarice had to fight down a shiver. Her own hands came up to hold Evelynn’s lean waist, swaying to the gentle, sexy beat.

The mage was fairly certain without her lich constitution she would be dying of a nosebleed right then and there. Yes, she’d done a lot of things with the diva far heavier on the touching side, but sex was almost easier than… whatever _that_ was. Slow-dancing with Evelynn, where everyone could see, so _close_ and looking into her eyes… it stoked a fire in her Avarice didn’t ever wish to put a name to.

The song was almost coming to an end.

Evelynn leaned down.

Before the summoner could realize what was happening, their lips had already brushed. Moist and balmy, tasting of expensive lipstick.

“Eve.” she said, putting what little force she could muster into her hold. The music thankfully –damningly?— stopped, paused, then switched to something different. Avarice desperately needed to get some cool air into her lungs, on her face. “Song’s over.”

Evelynn looked almost aggravated when she stepped back. Only for the moment, because there was nothing hinting at emotion the next –there wasn’t supposed to be anything to begin with.

“I’ll walk you to your dorm.” she said.

The first thing Avarice did outside was take a deep breath. 

…

_Gods_. Her chest burned.

Not like she’d been set on literal fire, but certainly like she’d swallowed a lit match that somehow continued flickering inside her, never going out. At the very least, rational thought was possible again.

For the most part.

Evelynn was a constant temptation by her side, and she was never too far. Avarice had to actively resist the flytrap-like pull of her presence, yet her body tended to stray towards the heat she effortlessly exuded. The convergence happened at the crossroads, when the diva stepped close and elegantly looped an arm through hers, steering them towards the long way around, rather than the straightforward path to the Grandmaster dorm.

Avarice tried to distract herself from how enjoyable the contact was, how simple it all seemed if she didn’t think about Evelynn’s nature too much. Their joined shadows so easily formed a pair under the lamplights. She wanted to lean into her, needed to even, but doubled down on her efforts to act nonchalant.

 _‘The two of you were a particularly interesting case.’_ She had no idea why, in leading her thoughts away from Evelynn, the High Summoner’s words came to mind. _‘How such darkness could surround such light, without smothering it.’_

Avarice dared to steal a look at her company’s enthralling profile. It was impossible to tell what was going on inside that twisted mind. What her motivations were, what game she was playing. How much of it was real.

She was darkness, terror, cruelty. That much was apparent to her even without her true sight activated. Evelynn manipulated shadows like she manipulated people –both her pawns. Why, then, did Avarice always find herself walking beside her? Always so close, as if some greater power kept tugging them together. Almost as if they were… an item.

_‘If Evelynn’s existence is a scar upon it, fate will make it so it closes, in time, with means perhaps we cannot even fathom.’_

“You know, the High Summoner has some… interesting ideas about us.” Avarice spoke up. Evelynn seemed to barely hold a dirty joke at the tip of her tongue. “Well, I guess in general, too.” she added. “He thinks there’s some sort of –I don’t know, higher plan for us.”

The diva gave a snobbish scoff. “Yes, because ‘ _everything_ in this universe is meant to be’.” she mocked. “There is a purpose and a plan, right? As if the gods have _any_ clue what they’re doing –or even what Runeterra is doing.” And from what Avarice had experienced, it was difficult not to agree with that statement. “I was never meant to be, at all.”

Fenrir’s faith was… shaken, she’d like to say, rather than outright broken.

Maybe she was grasping at straws, trying to make sense of her own existence. Trying to find a greater purpose in it, when, in reality, the only purpose there was the one she set for herself –the destruction of the cult.

_But… maybe–?_

Avarice hadn’t realized they made it to the dorm already.

They were at the finish line, but the demoness still hadn’t let go of her arm. Evelynn turned to her, stepped impossibly close, dropping her voice into a deadly whisper. “And if the universe has ‘plans’ for us, darling, it sure _fucked_ you up tying you with me.” The force of a hurricane lingered in her gaze. “I have no soul.” she stated, eyes wide and cold. The admission carried heavy weight behind it.

Evelynn’s fingers, lacking her calculated care as of late, sharply hooked around Avarice’s pendant. Gave an experimental tug. 

The summoner’s muscles locked up. Her chest constricted like she was going into cardiac arrest. It was unreasonable –nothing could remove the pendant from around her neck unless she did so herself— but even so, the thought of her entire being grasped in the demoness’ palm sent her into a brief panic attack.

“Maybe that’s why I want yours –to _belong_ to me— so _much_.” Evelynn said, malice and ambition beneath a hauntingly beautiful face inches from her own.

Although unspoken for the longest time, Avarice had not for one second forgotten what she’d agreed to give up for her goal. But Evelynn speaking it out loud, that she’d go through with it –not that Fenrir was naïve enough to believe she wouldn’t use her as a puppet when she got the chance– sent a raw shock through her system.

Those were Evelynn’s true colors.

And—

A laugh shook the summoner’s shoulders.

Evelynn’s back straightened. It wasn’t the reaction either of them expected. _I’m finally losing it._ Avarice thought absently, before speaking up.

“What’s a soul?” she asked, a bitter grin frozen on her lips.

A silent beat passed between them.

Then Avarice’s deep-repressed rage was _igniting_.

“Is it the reason I am able to feel or is it all of me? Is it something a couple of chanting _assholes_ can so easily tear out of me and _shove_ into a crystal?!” The storm shifted sides, equally destructive in nature. “Does it die with me or does it go on? What is it even _supposed_ to look like?”

It was Evelynn’s turn to be rendered speechless.

“Because let me tell you,” Avarice used their proximity as a weapon, this time. “If I allow myself to look too long, the things I see inside of people will drive me _insane_.”

Myriads of shapes and colors that rarely matched the things projected on the outside. Dizzying dissonance. Some seemingly screaming out for help. Others the reason for the former. Everyone put on a beautiful mask… but nobody could speak of the terrors that lurked underneath it.

Not that different from Evelynn, in the long run. At least with her, things were much more clear-cut. 

She was a monster, yes. She wasn’t the only one.

“Let’s hope that’s not their souls that I see.” Avarice said, tugging her pendant out of Evelynn’s hold and taking a step back. “But whatever a soul is, there’s something inside of you, too.”

Forbidden magic flooded her eyes and she could see it, clear as day. Or rather, dark as the blackest night. Past the beauty of her chosen form, into the demonic shadow with horns atop its head and lashers at its back. Then, one layer further, an augur of gloom. Dissipating at the edges, giving off a faint pulse every now and then, like a heart struggling to beat.

A ‘ _something’_ , regardless.

“And if you wanna know the funniest, scariest part, that’s the closest-looking thing to my own I’ve ever seen.” Avarice drew at the silver chain around her neck, displaying the pendant before Evelynn’s golden eyes and tight lips. “Food for thought.” she said, turning around and climbing the steps to her dorm.

Avarice got into her room, collapsed onto her bed and closed her eyes.

She wondered if she shared too much, in her burst of nerves.

 _There are always so many layers…_ she thought.

 _There are so many things hidden, closer to the surface than anyone can imagine._ And yet she didn’t have to imagine. She was cursed with seeing all of it, with knowledge she didn’t think a person should ever have, let alone have to bear.

Avarice wondered, alone in the shadowed corners of her mind, how long she could withstand to keep those things trapped in titanium safes, drowned in the depths of her psyche.

Without breaking apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs i was listening to that inspired their slow-dancing are ''Closure'' and ''FRZZN 2.0'' by Teflon Sega. Both pretty chill and sexy (and sport purple-y relaxing themes). And have any of you listened to 'Rev 22:20 - Puscifer'? I swear the lyrics were written for Evelynn or some equally sadistic vampire-like, mistress. 
> 
> On another note, Avarice getting unreasonably turned on by the sight of Evelynn in business-like suits and dark pants is an idea I'll never get enough of. She did an amazing job resisting up to a certain point, but after tasting the forbidden fruit she goes entirely weak before the sexy devil. Still hides it admirably though. Gotta commend the girl for her restraint. 
> 
> I love you all for your comments, you're amazing! :)  
> (May upload chapters sooner if they're ready because i'm prooobably gonna have more writing time now. But only a little bit. We'll see.)


	16. Chapter 16

**[Evelynn]**

_“What’s a soul?”_

That same question had haunted Evelynn from the very beginning. From the very moment she became aware of herself –and of the harrowing fact that something was _missing_.

She could faintly recall wandering aimlessly, barely a wisp floating from one shadow to the next, observing humans. The way they interacted with each other, how their emotions affected every aspect of their lives. How they controlled them, grounded them, shaped them. How they _defined_ their very existence.

Yet there was nothing to delineate hers.

An amorphous shadow without feeling, without a purpose in the world –it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. If the gods made everything as meticulously as people liked to believe, they definitely did not account for something like her being born into their prized world. In other words… she was a mistake. Theirs or their stupid little mortals’, walking around thinking of themselves as the center of the fucking universe, it did not matter. An error was an error.

And it would be paid in _agony_.

_Blood dripped from her claws. Streamed in rivers down her voluptuous body, pooling red and thick at her feet. Evelynn dropped the remains of her victim from her lashers like one would discard garbage._

_Ryze burst into the chamber in a swirl of arcane fury, but, yet again, he was far too late to stop her. Although, she supposed, he deserved points for tracking her down so quickly, that time. Usually, he followed the trail of widows, rather than the actual gore._

_A demonic giggle bubbled out of her. “Late to the party as always, I see.”_

_“Silence, demon!” he howled, perhaps in an attempt to hide the tears prickling at the very corners of his eyes._

_The victim had once been his apprentice, after all. Evelynn had picked him specifically for that reason –and he had been immensely fun to_ corrupt _. She made him renounce every single oath, every value his Master so carefully instilled in him... before she tortured him to death._

_“You… soulless fiend...” was spat in a whisper._

_“Hm?” Evelynn had tilted her head at the archmage. “What’s a soul?” she asked. It was one of the words she’d heard less often passed around between humans, its meaning still a mystery to her._

_Fiery eyes snapped up. “It’s something you_ lack _.”_

Evelynn hadn’t exactly been bothered by his words –couldn’t be– but over the course of many years she kept digging into the subject. She’d read up on every definition of a soul, every tome ever released about it. Spoke to mediums and wizards who claimed to be experts on the matter and killed them when their answers did not satisfy her.

Eventually, she sought Karthus out. A being so closely tied to death surely could give her the most accurate reply. The deathsinger’s hollow gaze had peered into her.

And.

 _“I see… nothing.”_ He’d said, a finality to his sentence. _“There is nothing inside you to see. No soul to speak of.”_

She knew it, of course. It was not a striking revelation. She’d always known it.

But she had never quite accepted it, until that point.

It set a lot of things into perspective, without changing anything at all. Weird, how things worked. Evelynn carried on the same way, drawing her pleasure from agony and waiting for the chance to drown the whole world in it once more. In the depths of her hollow being, however… she could tell there had been a shift after Karthus’ answer. A shift for the worse.

_And now, after eons of wondering, you tell me—!_

_“Whatever a soul is, there’s something inside of you, too.”_ Avarice’s voice rang in her mind.

That faraway look in her eyes, gazing at her without seeing the pretty parts, unnerved her still. What could a girl no older than twenty-four full moons see, that an undying spectre couldn’t? That _nobody_ else could.

 _And what does it even matter?_ Evelynn asked herself.

At that point, nothing mattered.

_Nothing’s changed._

Although, if she were honest, it almost felt like something had. 

_…_

Two evenings passed without the two of them talking. Approximately forty-three hours. Not that Evelynn was counting.

The Institute grounds spanned for as far as the human eye could see, after all and it was too easy to lose someone in them. Especially when they weren’t particularly trying to be found. Evelynn caught the faintest glimpses of Avarice’s back down crowded corridors and common rooms, but that was as close to her as she managed to get before her own busy schedule diverted her attention.

The demoness had been walking with Ahri to the nearest studio, that night, when a chilly breeze carried over a very familiar perfume with it. Crinum extract and a touch of moonlit-graced arcane. “–and it’s so annoying when summoners like that can get away with these things—” the nine-tailed fox was talking, but Evelynn’s focus shifted, almost of its own volition, towards the source of the soothing scent.

There, behind a couple of tall hedges closing a small, dimly-lit park from view, amber eyes could make out Avarice’s silhouette… along with another person’s. Another summoner, probably of high rank if the way he held himself next to her was any indication. 

“Eve, are you listening?” Ahri asked, hitting her shoulder lightly.

“Sadly.” The demoness replied, which prompted an exaggerated eye-roll. She still didn’t take her gaze off the pair.

Something about the situation sat wrong with her.

 _Very_ wrong.

At first glance, there wasn’t anything much to the scene. Two teammates finding common ground after a match to talk, in what happened to be a cosy corner. Borderline acceptable… or it _would_ be, if the man wasn’t then leaning closer to Avarice, gradually, closer than would be considered professional and dancing precariously on the border between ‘friendly’ and ‘more-than-friendly’.

The second he laid a hand on her elbow Evelynn was convinced he would soon lose it. _Nobody_ touched her things without her permission.

“Give me a moment.” she told Ahri, whose whispered warning not to cause a scene –or worse– flew right past her. 

Avarice was the first to notice her approach; her slender neck perking like a wolf sensing the shift in the wind before a hurricane struck. She immediately broke away from the other mage and turned to her – _into_ her, grabbing her side in what most people would consider a greeting half-hug between close friends. Evelynn, however, recognized it for the restraining hold it was.

“Hey, Evelynn!” Avarice exclaimed, exaggeratedly delighted to see her. All the while, a vein at her neck stood out with the effort she had to put to keep her rooted. The diva was determined to make it as difficult for her as possible. “Long time no _see_.”

 _How noble, that you throw yourself in my arms now._ Evelynn thought darkly. Only when it was to keep her away from someone, because otherwise she wouldn’t get so much as a _touch_ —

“Indeed. And who’s your charming new friend here…?” she used her most attractive smile on the man, eyeing him from top to bottom none-too-subtly. His cheeks flushed. His idiotic masculine pride inflated like a balloon. Evelynn could already see his mind, warmed, conjuring indecent images of the three of them in a single bed.

The summoner opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Avarice beat him to it. “No one. He was just leaving.” she spoke cuttingly, quickly. A clean dissection. Her gaze turned impossibly cold as it fell back on him. “Weren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” he gulped, all previous confidence evaporated. “Yeah, see you… around?”

Avarice held the diva _tight_ , a long, unspoken conversation in their locked gazes, until he disappeared far enough to be safe. Relatively safe. Then she let out the breath she’d been keeping and moved to disentangle herself –as if Evelynn would let her.

Manicured nails dug into her black-clad back, carefully, warningly, keeping her in place. “How cute, that you hold me just to keep me from learning his name.” Not that she couldn’t find him still, but it would take searching both of them knew she lacked the time to bother with.

“Because, apparently, confessing attraction to me is a crime punishable by _death_.” Avarice growled under her breath, shoulders flexing under her grip. The subtle movement of those muscles under her fingertips made Evelynn press down harder. Made her hold back the urge to break them open, made her think of her thighs over them, locked around Avarice’s neck. The thought stuck. Something faint in her, like a distant echo, keened.

“Maybe.” Evelynn smirked just to spite her.

“I must have missed the memo we’re exclusive.” Avarice said. Why did her retaliating cause the demoness to picture forcing her between her legs so much?

“Oh, darling, _you_ are exclusive to _me_.” Evelynn corrected cockily. She was tempted to make sure _everyone_ knew that, at her next concert.

“Yeah? Where does it say _that_ in our contract?” Avarice spat, figuratively shoving their agreement in front of the demoness’ face, like she had done, two nights ago. _Fair_. Evelynn mused. _But I don’t do fair, hon._

“About where it says _this_.” the diva spoke, grinned…

And crashed their lips together. She didn’t hold back to give Avarice _any_ time to adjust, instead shoving her tongue into her mouth, coaxing hers to play with all the skill she’d accumulated over eons of existence. Her nails rose up, followed the path of nicely-defined collarbones to catch at the girl’s nape. Poor Fenrir gave a shiver in her arms.

Evelynn sucked on her cotton-soft bottom lip until every last thought of protest gave way to compliance –and then she let a fang sharpen and nick her on her way back.

Avarice hissed and pulled away. The tiny sting of pain made Evelynn’s gut tingle. Blue eyes pierced her with an accusatory look. The girl brought a finger to the corner of her bit lip, wiping the single bead of blood there.

“Very interesting argument.” Avarice commented sarcastically, keeping her expression dull, although Evelynn could taste exactly how affected she was by that kiss. Her taut body was crying out for her touch like a castaway lost at sea.

“I’d make a better one if the setting allowed.” Evelynn motioned towards their surroundings and the Institute in general. Avarice bit her tongue in an attempt to keep color from rising to her cheeks.

The sound of a throat clearing turned them both to the entrance of the park. Evelynn had completely forgotten she’d left Ahri there, to witness the whole thing. _Oh, well._

“If you two are done flirting. We’re late for our rehearsal.” she smirked like the cat that got the canary.

Avarice turned five different shades of red.

Evelynn simply blew the mage a kiss and joined Ahri with a very dry look.

“Spoilsport.” she stated, before they continued on their way. 

…

The opening instrumental created a haunting melody reverberating off the studio’s walls.

Along with the low purple lighting, it stood a perfect fit to Evelynn’s voice as she sang, quietly, almost a hushed conversation between lovers: “I don’t trust these thoughts of mine.” A few piano notes crashed around the group like hot raindrops. “If I’m not dead I’m half-alive.”

Kai’sa took over for her part. A soft blue light fell on her, atop all the magenta. “Listen to the echoes bouncing up and down these halls. I recognize my voice, but these words don’t make sense at all...”

Then it was Akali’s turn. The light followed. “I take a bloodied finger to the walls~ I write a name and tell you what I’m called~” She hung her head, kneeling, fingers secured around the sword at her belt like the echo of a knight lost in time.

Ahri stepped forward, past her teammates and out of the shadows. “But it doesn’t hide the arguments, the torn-up skin I’m living in—!” The music kicked up at the end of her lyrics, loud bass beat pulsing throughout the chamber. Drowning out everything that was soft before in its newfound energy, as Akali cast a smoke bomb and simultaneously drew her katana, coated with glowing mauve alloy. Integrated perfectly into their choreography, it cast a hypnotic, sharp contrast of swirls through the haze of the smoke dying down, bound to drive the audience _crazy_.

“I don’t trust these thoughts of mine!” Ahri sang. “If I’m not dead I’m half alive!”

Before she was completely done with her part, Evelynn cut in, her deeper voice an added shock to the louder twists of the music. “I cast a shadow on the wall, life throws a monster ten-feet tall, it’s gasoline and my mind is on _fire_ –am I on fire?”

Akali and Kai’sa, who had been dance-locked in a sort of ‘duel’ between them, suddenly bent down, the rogue throwing her sword backwards towards Evelynn, to catch at just the moment her sentence ended.

Everything until that moment had been going _flawlessly_.

But.

Evelynn’s hand shook in the air. Her entire body froze over, an unearthly, penetrating chill going off on every nerve ending in her fabricated body like a small nuke. Her vision stuttered, fractured, a mirror where too many cracks had formed. For a few seconds, it felt like the same thing was happening to her entire being.

Just— _cracking_.

The sword hit the ground with a deafening _clang_.

In the moments it took Evelynn to gather her bearings, the music had been cut. Sona was behind the glass wall and the console, staring with an openly worried look on her face. Kai’sa and Akali did little to mask their surprise, the latter’s jaw slightly agape. Ahri’s ears were standing in the way they always did when she was pissed off. Her tails were flaring, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“What.” Evelynn gave her a flat look, after her recovery. Just because her whole world tilted on its axis didn’t mean she had to acknowledge that part. “I miscalculated.”

“Someone’s mind is elsewhere.” Akali joked to ease the tension. The demoness threw her a smirk over her shoulder that she tried entirely too hard to force upon her lips. It came out with all the natural charm in the world, but something inside her was still reeling from the earlier experience.

She had to get out and feed. _Fast_.

“I have somewhere to be. Don’t scowl like that, Ahri –you’ll get wrinkles.” Evelynn said casually, already moving towards the exit.

She didn’t look back as she dashed outside.

She also didn’t make it very far before a familiar presence neared her own.

Ahri grabbed her wrist and turned her around, her expression gravely serious, in a manner unseen before.

Evelynn huffed. Either her teammate let her go before her patience ran out, or she would _make_ her.

“When are you going to tell them?” Ahri asked.

The demoness touched the tip of her tongue to a blunt fang. Chuckled. Of course the gumiho knew what was going on with her. She wondered if Ahri could feel her life force slipping away, or simply connected the dots from her attitude and increased killings the past years.

“They don’t need to know—” Evelynn replied coolly.

“That you’re _dying_.” the fox growled, cutting her off.

“Don’t be dramatic, foxy.” The demoness reached a hand up to pet the top of her head, like placating a child. Ahri bared her fangs. “I’m not going to die. Completely. At least I don’t think.” the diva explained. “I’ll probably just go back to the deep darkness where I came from and when the world fucks itself again, I’ll be good as new.”

“You may not even be _you_ by the time that happens.” A very likely scenario Evelynn refused to think about. “They deserve to know.” Ahri caught her arm. “ _She_ deserves to know.”

The demoness sharply tugged out of the hold. “And why is _that_.”

“Because they care about you.” the nine-tailed fox stated, so certain, like speaking of a universal fact. “Even if you don’t care much for the sentiment.”

Evelynn laughed as she turned away.

“How sad for them.” she said, disappearing into the night.

…

A good distance from the studio, the diva came to a stark realization.

She hadn’t been walking towards her car, or any of the exits from the Institute. Instead, she was standing at the yard of the Grandmaster dorm, all of her senses focused on a single point.

On a single person.

 _Avarice_.

How attractive she looked with her earphones on preparing to leave for what was probably a night stroll through the beautiful League grounds, how the earrings she had gifted her drew the eye to her pale neck. How her soft skin glowed under the lamplight, so utterly kissable. Begging to be marked. Evelynn’s lashers shuddered at the mere thought of sinking into it, slashing and rending whatever they wished because all of it was _hers_. And oh, the sheer, burning _pleasure_ she’d get from—

 _No, what am I doing here..._ She grit her teeth, forcing her body, which suddenly felt too heavy and disobedient, away.

Until.

“Eve?” _Her_ voice called. The motion of her fingers rising to remove the earphones drew the demoness’ eye. “What are you doing here?”

Evelynn wanted to have her. In every way. Fuck her, then watch her deep blue eyes as she tortured her. At the same time, she knew she couldn’t let herself get near, because the hunger would do the talking. _And what’s so bad about that?_ A part of her asked.

“Passing through, honey.” she said, holding her figure nailed on the spot.

Avarice, however, decided it was a good idea then, of all times, to approach her. “Well…” she trailed off. “I don’t have any matches tomorrow so I’m taking the bus home.”

 _Great._ Evelynn thought sarcastically. Leaving the _one_ place where she couldn’t hurt her even if she tried. Everything and everyone outside the Institute’s magic was fair game.

Fenrir came close, an almost shy expression on her face. “I still have about an hour of waiting for it, though. Do… you want to go get ice-cream with me?” She was tired, that much was obvious. There was an unguarded look in her eyes that had little to do with that, though. A look that was nearly hopeful. Unusual, fitting a past version of her far better than the current, jaded one. 

Evelynn lifted her hand to her shoulder, tracing the lines of her arm up, all thick seduction. Then she realized what she was doing and what the move was most commonly used on: prey.

She pushed Avarice away with an icy “No.”

The demoness turned around and left, without once turning to look behind her.

…

Her watch read one in the morning.

Evelynn was revitalized, but never exactly full. She was fully in control of her preferred form once again, though and it would have to do for the night. So, the diva walked down a familiar road with a single destination in mind. A house that seemed as quiet as its lone inhabitant, dark save for a soft light coming from the living room.

The demoness climbed the small steps to the front door and rang the bell. A rustling sound came from inside, then footsteps. Avarice hovered at the door, an aggravated sigh leaving her lips at the sight of her on the other end through the camera.

“What do you _want_ at this hour?” Her tone was sharp. Biting.

Evelynn didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Open the door, Avarice.”

“Go away.” It sounded like the girl turned to leave.

“I can get in with or _without_ it in the way.” Evelynn reminded impatiently. She’d rather not switch to and from her shadow form so often, it would deplete her already low mana reserves faster, but it all depended on Fenrir’s decision.

Avarice growled and slammed the door open. “Does it work if I say I _uninvite_ you—”

Evelynn proved it didn’t by springing forward and drawing her into a passionate kiss. Manicured fingers eagerly reached up to frame a slender neck, twining into rich brown locks and subtle navy highlights. Avarice’s grip on her designer jacket tightened when the diva’s tongue slipped over her bottom lip, requesting entrance into her mouth.

Evelynn easily turned them around as the door closed behind her, gently pushing Avarice against it. The girl let out a tiny moan in their liplock. The demoness felt more satisfied by that single sound than the array of men she laid waste to, just in the previous hours.

It was so _good_ to have Avarice trapped underneath her while the stolen sensations of her victims still coursed through her veins. Everything had taste, vivid and wonderful. Evelynn wanted to do so many _things_ to her, to commit to memory every reaction, every phantom feeling she could leech from her aroused body, even without them being bonded.

Full, purple lips broke from the girl’s to trail across her jaw, to her ear. Avarice’s nails dug into her sides, just under her ribs. She was so _sensitive_.

“ _Evelynn_ —” she let out in a breathy whine.

“Keep saying my name like that.” the demoness chuckled against her skin, latching her mouth to the vulnerable spots of her neck. She was in the process of guiding a thigh to the apex of the summoner’s legs…

When Avarice redirected her weight to the side and slipped out of her hold like an eel. A very attractive, frustrating eel.

“Oh, _no_.” Deep blue eyes pierced her through. Evelynn sexily leaned against the door and gave her a molten look. “You sure as hell are not doing _this_ right now after how you pushed me earlier. Trust me —I am _not_ desperate enough for your touch that I’d suck up your hot-and-cold treatment.”

 _I can make you very desperate._ Evelynn thought but didn’t say.

Avarice then had the audacity to throw her hands up in the air and turn her back to her, plopping back down on her couch. The demoness wasn’t sure if she should be amused, irritated, turned on or downright murderous. She settled for an exasperated mix of all the above as she joined the girl on the cushions, carefully planning her next move.

Evelynn removed her jacket and threw it aside. Then curled a leg under her, supporting her head on her palm, her elbow on the back of the couch. She gazed at Avarice’s television-illuminated profile. The ocean eyes of the summoner made a point to not leave the screen, but it was clear the movie didn’t hold her attention quite as much as she’d like.

“Stop it.” she said.

“I’m not doing anything.” Evelynn shrugged with a smirk.

“I’m watching this movie.”

“And I’m watching you.”

Avarice huffed something like ‘insufferable’ under her breath. Rolled her pretty eyes. They stayed in the same positions, minutes ticking by. Evelynn studied the tension in Fenrir’s shoulders until it gradually died down, until her focus really did belong to the plot of the mystery-crime playing at the screen.

Slowly, the demoness scooted closer. When she was met by no resistance, she leaned in, trailing her lips down the shell of Avarice’s ear –her breath hitched endearingly in the process— until her chin dropped to rest on the crook of her neck. Her fresh perfume was stronger there, mixed beautifully with Evelynn’s own. Muscles that had loosened for a while stood tense once more. Expecting. But the diva made no further move, merely noting her reactions and smirking against her cool skin.

“Don’t be so stubborn.” she coaxed quietly. “It’s obvious you want me near. Just relax…”

Maybe Avarice didn’t want to forgive her or fall back in her arms so easily, but it was an inevitability. Evelynn was fed and willing to play extremely nice for her, for the night. The girl had the opportunity of a lifetime, to enjoy being held by the most gorgeous woman in the world. A singular privilege; it would be a shame for pride to ruin it.

The diva absently moved the hand she had over the back of the couch, threading her fingers into slightly-wavy, silky hair. Avarice’s gaze darted sideways, to her, then back ahead.

 _“She deserves to know.”_ Ahri’s words came to mind, uninvited.

Evelynn thought long and hard about how to tell her. By the time she decided it wasn’t that big of a deal for either of them, by the time her lips parted to speak, she realized Avarice was leaning against her completely, her edges smoothed over into softness in her arms. Her mind, for once, radiated comfort instead of hurt. Evelynn wished she could truly feel the same but settled for watching her.

Something about the sight silenced everything she was meaning to say.

Quarters passed. The movie was nearing its end and the summoner’s eyes were closed. She was on the brink of sleep and wakefulness, barely conscious of pulling Evelynn’s free hand, idle at her thigh, across her waist. The demoness raised a perfectly curved eyebrow. She decided she may as well take it all the way and enveloped the girl further, like smoke, like a dragon coiled around its treasure. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do.

There was a certain appeal, if she absolutely had to admit it, to leaning against the pretty summoner rather than all alone in an empty bed, as Evelynn fell into her energy-conservative state.

But if Avarice kicked or elbowed her in her almost-sleep in a fit caused by her regular nightmares, the diva knew she would be pissed. She decided to risk it anyways.

The summoner didn’t stir once all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but I seriously have a thing for 'you-get-on-my-nerves-but-it-also-turns-me-on' Evelynn. Wholesome K/DA and wholesome apology for being a bitch also fill my head with writing ideas. The song they're singing is 'Gasoline by N3wport x Riell', kicked up a notch into heavier bass/beat. Riell's voice is exactly what I picture Evelynn to sound like when she's singing. Aka hawt. 
> 
> Happy Easter people :)


	17. Chapter 17

**[Avarice]**

_Warm_.

It wasn’t often that Avarice could enjoy the luxury of heat. Her skin had gone cold after the ritual forced upon her; her heart frozen still in the cavity of her chest. Everything inside her felt glacial, distant. Disconnected. Naturally, she latched onto any source of warmth available.

_So warm._

That particular comfort wrapped around her, enveloping her like a wonderfully scented cloud, ten times as soft, made Avarice sink into it, unwilling to let go of the haze of sleep.

Yet morning light was tickling her closed eyelids, gradually coaxing her awake. Avarice wanted to tell those first rays of sunlight to leave her alone, because she was having the best sleep of her life and they couldn’t go ahead and ruin that for her. She stirred, turning around into the glorious heat, which shifted to accommodate her…

“Oh no…” she whispered, upon the first blink revealing a too-kissable neck and magenta strands of hair. She shut her eyes as if to erase the image, the fact that she slept cuddled up to _Evelynn_ with it.

“That’s how you wake up to me?” Her husky voice came by her ear, rendering Avarice’s efforts utterly null. “ _So_ ungrateful…” The diva commented, unburdened by any signs of sleep. And really, it shouldn’t be possible for anybody, inhuman or not, to sound _that_ hot so early in the morning.

Avarice reluctantly pulled away. “This changes nothing.” she said, rubbing at her eyes before giving Evelynn –perfectly composed without a single hair out of place, damn her— a firm look. “I’m still angry at you.”

Amber eyes, sparkling under the dawn’s grace, rolled. Then, Evelynn’s scorching, cotton lips were pressing, so briefly, to the crook of her neck, sending an aching shiver down her stomach.

“I can make it up to you…” she whispered.

Fenrir could _feel_ her smirk at the shell of her ear. It drove her weak at the knees, but she reminded her stupid, aroused body that Evelynn couldn’t be given whatever she wanted whenever she pleased, then be allowed to step over her according to her whims.

“Maybe, but you’ll have to try harder than that.” Avarice gently pushed at her chest and rose, heading over to her kitchen. If she dared look over her shoulder even once, the gorgeous sight sprawled there would tempt her too much.

“Baby, you are too pretty to be this difficult.” Evelynn huffed, leaning back like an empress sitting on her throne, watching her prepare her breakfast.

It was a few minutes of comfortable silence later that the demoness’ phone rang. From her dull answer, Avarice guessed it was probably Ahri on the other end. She didn’t strain her hearing to pick up on what was being said, but it was easy to gather Evelynn had to go.

The summoner wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

And that… was terrifying.

“Duty calls.” The diva said, rising and flinging her discarded jacket over a dainty shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“Bye.” Fenrir waved from her position against the counter. She casually sipped on her orange juice, focused on it to avoid overthinking _. No, I totally didn’t have the best sleep of the past years snuggled up to my demon— wait._

Evelynn crossed the distance between them in a couple of long, determined strides. She didn’t stop until she towered over Avarice, larger than life, an amused twinkle in her eyes as she leaned down to give her a kiss…

On the cheek. Dark lips curved into an incredibly smug smirk upon tasting the disappointment Fenrir failed to conceal in time.

“I’ll call you later.” The demoness playfully touched the earrings still at Avarice’s ears, before turning and walking outside like she owned the world.

Fenrir’s eyes absolutely did not linger at her tight miniskirt, or the sensual curve of her back as she left.

The summoner took a breath. Held it.

Focused back on her juice, the only thing in her life that made any sense, at that point. 

…

_A good day starts in the morning, they say._

It was a strange beginning, but for all of her denial Avarice couldn’t call it bad. She felt well and truly rested, for once in a long while. Her mental shields were stronger, her magic sharper to respond to her command. It was the most favorable state to be in before her long-awaited match, detrimental to her qualification for Promos into the Challenger rank.

_If I win this we’re in promos. This is good. It’s all good—_

Avarice psyched herself up before passing the League’s ginormous main gate. Normally, she paid no mind to the digital announcement board beside it, as there was rarely anything of interest to her. Just more dates for upcoming events she had no desire to participate in. The summoner’s mind was brimming with strategies and possible jungle routes, too busy to even bother sparing a glance.

A white limousine pulled over next to her, on its way out of the Institute.

Fenrir raised an eyebrow.

The black, bulletproof window lowered in a soft whirring sound… revealing two familiar faces.

Miss Fortune casually waved ‘hello’ from the far end. Then, summoner Esen, on the side closest to her, an angel with her pale skintone and platinum-blonde hair, offered a smile like the sunrise. “Hey, Fenrir.” she said in her silvery voice. It was easy to see why she was the covergirl for so many promotional posters, both in the Institute and outside it.

“Hi. What’s up?” Avarice asked, a tiny line over her brow. Somehow, a famous Challenger’s attention was never quite as good as it sounded. There was always a reason for it and usually not a good one. Too many motives lay hidden in the smiles of the League’s elite.

“Heard about your pre-promo match today. I’m sorry about Warwick.”

“It’s—” _Okay?_ Avarice halted mid-sentence. “Wait –what do you mean?”

“Ah, I thought you knew, being his main and all.” the celebrity said.

“Your wolf’s in the med-wing and out of commission for a couple of days. There was an… accident, in Zaun.” Miss Fortune spoke.

 _A fucking_ what _?!_

Avarice’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Large azure eyes sought out proof at the announcement board— where, indeed, the flaming-red notice read exactly that. _‘Due to recent injury, Champion Warwick will be unavailable for matches until newer notice. Your patience is appreciated, Summoners.’_

 _Oh, Gods. Is he alright?_ Avarice’s thoughts raced. _He’s tough –he_ must _be._

“It’s awful timing. You’d be a nice addition to the Dorm.” Esen smirked charmingly, in a way that reminded Fenrir too much of a certain diva for comfort. “Unless…” her silver eyes glinted. “You’re going to use your legendary Evelynn pick that I’ve heard so much about?”

 _…Do I dodge?_ Losing some league points as a soft penalty was smarter than losing a shit ton of them upon defeat. But the match had been hyped up because of her and lots of people would be attending. She couldn’t go and brutally disappoint her fans like that. 

“I’ll be watching your game from home. Plus, I’ve already bet a good amount of money on you. Don’t let me down now, Fenrir.” Esen smiled, very reminiscent of a princess. The tinted window rose once more and the limousine took off, leaving Avarice alone with the alarming news.

 _Shit_. She cursed.

Shit.

The Medical Wing had just opened for visitation hours by the time the mage passed the threshold. She practically dashed across the corridor towards Warwick’s room. Paused at the door just to draw in a steadying breath, the flowers she’d bought tucked between her left arm and side. Then, she knocked.

“Come in, Avarice.” Soraka’s voice, infused with infinite patience, came from the other side.

Fenrir opened the door to the sight of a giant gruff wolf sitting on a hospital bed that didn’t quite fit him. His ears were flat against his head, claws flexing, relaxing, then flexing again, at the blood sample Soraka was drawing. Bandages were wrapped around his upper chest and right shoulder, some of them stained red.

“Hey.” Avarice breathed, sliding closer to him. The fresh bouquet was gently laid at his bedside table. “Are…you okay?”

“I’m fine.” came in a small snarl.

“If by ‘fine’ you mean he has two large, poisoned lacerations at his torso and a minor fracture at his shoulder, then yes. He is absolutely fine.” Soraka spoke evenly.

“What happened?” Avarice asked, gravely serious.

Warwick turned his snout away and refused to answer. The three of them sat in uncomfortable silence for a while. The only motion in the sterilized chamber was that of the alchemical pumps at his back forever intermingling rage into his bloodstream– whatever little unaltered blood was left in it. Whatever piece of him remaining that was still… human.

There, in that quiet, safe space meant for healing, their similarities hit Avarice like a speeding train.

“I shall leave you two alone for a while.” Soraka, reading far more into the situation than met the eye, gently excused herself. The door closed in a barely audible click behind her.

Warwick refused to look at the summoner still, but she understood. She had once refused to look at him too, when he’d come to offer support. Convinced herself she didn’t need it.

Just like she did with her summoning.

Cut herself off until she was fighting alone. Not as one with her champion–not even close. It was a freaking miracle she got to Grandmaster as such, all by herself, because she kept trying to hide all the parts of her that were dark, that she believed should be unseen. The parts she wished _she_ could unsee. Created an isolated chamber in their bond, a safety net, that hindered her own progress. She held them _both_ back. 

“I’m sorry.” they said at the exact same time.

Glared at each other.

He turned away again.

“Don’t be a stubborn ass.” Avarice growled, plopping down by his leg, facing him. Long ears perked a little at the challenge. Fell again, at the first touch she laid on his shoulder. “What. Happened.”

“I was an idiot and got lured into a trap!” Warwick roared suddenly, yellow eyes blazing, a powerful jaw snapping near her face as if to scare her away. Any normal person would have hidden under the bed and prayed for mercy. Avarice didn’t flinch. And because she didn’t, he drew back and continued in a slightly more controlled tone: “He knows my weaknesses –he _created_ them! I couldn’t resist the smell of such foul blood –and it was all another scheme, another experiment for a new poison!”

 _Singed._ Avarice thought darkly. Warwick’s singular point of obsession, not dissimilar to her own, towards her own torturers. To see one of them protected by the League’s magic, unable to be harmed within the Institute, would surely drive her _insane_. There was no length she wouldn’t go to, to kill them as soon as they stepped outside the barrier. People were quick to criticize Warwick as unhinged, but they knew _nothing_.

“I can’t _resist_ it—!” he snarled, claws cutting through the sheets to keep from threatening her wellbeing.

Avarice removed the hand at his shoulder and used it to grab a hold of his machinery-infused wrist. Golden eyes went wide. “You’re fine.” she said, steady, firm. “We all have our demons and if blood is yours, then so be it. I know the past controls you. Drives you mad. But look forward. There’s more to you than scars.”

She wasn’t entirely certain if she was talking to him or herself, in that moment.

Warwick’s claws eased.

“All wounds from now on are temporary. They’ll be gone by the end of the night. And for this evening, while Soraka no doubt keeps you here even though you’re healed –because that’s how she is– I want you to watch my match. I think you’ll like it.” Avarice’s lips curved in a shadowy smirk.

_Singed is in the enemy top lane, isn’t he?_

The gears in her mind turned relentlessly on her way out, into the flower-scented air of the yard. _Excellent._

Avarice took out her phone and didn’t hesitate to call her Champion for the night. The other line rang for all of three seconds.

 _“Hello, darling~ Missed me so soon?”_ Evelynn’s voice reached her ears like a haunting melody.

“Evelynn. I need you to clear your schedule for me this evening.” she spoke. “And be at the Grandmaster arena at eight.”

A pause; and then a deep chuckle followed. _“Only if you do something for me in return.”_

“And here I thought you’d do it out of the kindness of your heart.” Avarice commented sardonically. “Sure, what do you want?”

 _“This event at the city of Trevale where we’re once again going to spend hours upon hours signing autographs and smiling for the children?”_ Evelynn said. _“You’re accompanying me.”_

“Deal. Don’t be late –not even fashionably.” Avarice said.

_“Wouldn’t dream of keeping you waiting.”_

A kiss blown into the speaker from the diva’s end; then the call ended.

Avarice looked down at her hands. They gave her the nickname ‘Fenrir’ because she was relentless, rising at an astonishingly fast pace across the ranks. Because there was no escaping her jaws, in the form of her overpowering smite. But Fenrir’s lore was more than that of a giant wolf with a ravenous appetite.

He was a destroyer of worlds. Of gods.

And just for that night, Avarice decided, she would become the very _embodiment_ of his name.

…

Avarice had known there would be many people coming.

But she had never expected the entire arena would be filled, not a single seat empty and more fans still trying to get in, squeezing into whatever little space between corridors and stairs there was. Security, at some point, had to keep people outside, to watch the match from the massive screens attached to the exterior walls, since there was no way any more could fit within.

The peek Fenrir took past the curtain closing off the backstage from the bridge leading to the main stage turned out to be a _bad_ idea. Thousands of eyes were watching, eagerly, while the host, Arlo Maddox, former Challenger player who had to retire due to an injury, gave the opening speech.

The allied team gathered in the traditional entering line.

Avarice measured her breathing, cleared her mind of all things unnecessary to the match. Anxiety had no place in a summoning bond.

“You want a good luck kiss before the game?” Evelynn asked, smirking sideways at her.

The standard theme for the blue team played across the speakers. Avarice could hear the names of her opponents being announced, the cheers that followed. Then, the red theme blared. It was their turn.

“I don’t need luck.” Avarice replied, before the curtain opened and they were stepping out into the spotlight.

People loved seeing her with Evelynn –that was a fact.

Yet the sheer hype was _unreal_. Fans were screaming by the time they got to the center of the stage, standing from their seats like witnessing a miracle, a dream come to life. As if the match was some sort of grand championship. 

The sound of Arlo’s voice was drowned out by the cacophony.

Avarice blocked the noise from getting to her nerves. Turned towards Evelynn, standing on her teleporting rune with all the confidence in the galaxy. Extended her magic towards her in a link that was accepted with practiced ease.

The world seemed to fade into the background, muted, for a while. The demoness’ darkness was familiar, even soothing, as it closed around her magic. Then, upon the first brush of it across Avarice’s intentions, it sharpened; into cruelty, into cold amusement.

 _“Oh, is_ that _the plan?”_ her demonic laugh lingered in the back of her mind like a haunting echo.

 _“Evelynn.”_ Avarice telepathically spoke through their bond.

Steely blue eyes turned towards Singed.

 _“_ Destroy _him.”_

…

Twelve kills. Zero deaths. Six assists.

Evelynn was godlike. The two of them had never been so in-sync before. Without her pretence of being human, of keeping her murderous urges unseen, the demoness was a terror feeding hungrily on the power of their bond. A storm that was directed, rather than contained. Without her old hesitance to feel the blood on her champion’s hands, to fully immerse herself in the act, in the _feast_ , Avarice was nearly one with the monster.

And their smite was— _crippling_.

The enemy team was shredded like papers, summoners caving practically before their champions did from the pressure. Singed’s partner probably didn’t deserve it, to be crushed so completely he would remember it for life, but Avarice realized to get what she wanted she had to not concern herself with others’ image.

Evelynn knew where to cut to inflict the maximum amount of agony before her kills, to make her opponent suffer horribly while it all looked like a graceful dance to the cameras. The world loved seeing blood in matches, but _just_ the right amount. Avarice trusted her with that part.

By the time the game concluded, the Grandmaster jungler across from her was panting on his knees. His whole team looked destroyed, exhausted, like they survived an apocalypse by the skin of their teeth. They left the stage with barely enough strength to go down a set of stairs.

Evelynn chuckled, by her side rather than her mind, having stepped out of the teleporting rune.

“So!” the charming host exclaimed once the voices died down a bit. “We all know the pair we’re keeping for this interview, don’t we?” he asked. Another tidal wave of approval washed over them. “Evelynn, Avarice. Please join us for a while longer.” A microphone was handed to each of them. “Fenrir. Let me just begin by saying… I would hate to be the other guy.”

“Me too.” she said. Chuckles came from around.

“Tell us, how is it possible to smite down and secure every objective, without fail? I have _never_ seen you lose a fifty-fifty contest.”

“Well… I try.” she smiled atop a tiny shrug.

“Her smite is stronger.” Evelynn said. “And she's cuter.” was added a second later. The audience gasped like watching a long-awaited scene at a romantic film unfold before their eyes.

Avarice fought to contain her blush. “What does _that_ have to do with anything?” she turned towards her champion with widened eyes.

Evelynn gave her a calm, sexy smirk. “Well…” she drew out the word for effect. “If I was a dragon or the baron I’d fall for you, too.” a killer wink was thrown into the mix. The arena positively _exploded_. Avarice bit the inside of her cheek and refrained from hiding under her palm. “They agree.” Evelynn stated, gesturing to the people. A massive ‘we do!’ came from the crowd.

“You two look great on stage together.” Arlo took the diva’s cue to _really_ mess with the fans.

“We do.” Evelynn nodded.

“I’ve seen better.” Avarice commented, prompting another laugh from the audience.

Arlo took a deep breath. “So... is the world-famous ‘Everice’ ship for real?” he prodded. Everyone stood at the edge of their seats.

“Is the grass green?” the demoness asked. One giant, echoing gasp came from below the stage.

“It's _not_!” Avarice rushed to remedy the situation.

“I'm working on it.” Evelynn casually said to the man.

 _“What?!”s and “Who in their right mind makes you work for it?!"s_ came from the fans.

“I know right?” Evelynn replied.

“Please don't feed her already massive ego any more...” Avarice huffed.

“And now, a question from the crowd.” The host, hardly containing his grin, motioned.

A random fan was given the microphone. The girl stood from her VIP seat, asking: “Fenrir, if you could kiss any champion you wanted, who would you pick?”

 _Are my own fans trying to kill me, here?_ Avarice wrecked her brain for a safe pick. “I don’t know.” she said. She didn’t even dare spare a glance towards Evelynn. No doubt the demoness was enjoying the situation _far_ too much. “I guess… Akali?”

No sooner had her answer been given than Evelynn raised her mic to her inviting mouth. “As if I’d let anyone else get their lips on _my_ girl.”

The whole structure blew _up_ after that.

To the point Avarice couldn't hear her own thoughts -which was probably for the better. A silently ‘thank you’ was sent to the gods upon the interview’s conclusion. She tried not to walk too fast out of the stage, but there was no explaining the sheer _relief_ upon stepping out of the worlds' view…

And turning to Evelynn with a withering glare.

“Really now!” she demanded. “'Is the grass green'?!”

“It is, darling.” Evelynn replied with a shit-eating grin.

“I am _not_ your girl.” Avarice’s face was flaming just saying those words.

“What are you, my friend with benefits?” the demoness shrugged like the two of them were the most natural thing in the world.

Avarice opened her mouth. Closed it. Didn't speak for a while.

Evelynn chuckled throatily. Leaned in just to whisper: “You were _always_ mine.”

…

The air smelled of moonflowers and gladiolus.

A massive, royal-red carpet was laid out at the entrance of Trevale’s extravagant mall, cameras on either side of it snapping restlessly as champions passed. Avarice tried to tone down the sense of claustrophobia that overcame her as soon as every lens in the vicinity focused on Evelynn and her.

Fenrir cast her gaze about the interior; the grand white columns, elegant crystalline lights and the large dome above their heads, its tinted glass sparkling a darling aqua blue under the moonlight. Underneath it, fans were already forming endless queues for autographs and ‘QnA’s.

Evelynn guided her along to K/DA’s location with a warm hand at the small of her back. The people already gathered there cheered as soon as she joined her team, taking a seat beside Kai’sa. Avarice had imagined she’d feel much more awkward and out of place with the celebrities, but was surprised by how natural it was to just let herself smile for people looking brightly at her for an autograph.

 _‘We love you!_ ’ some said as they approached, practically bouncing from the excitement. _‘You are an inspiration!’_ others were at the point of tears at a single glance of the group. Parents brought their children over to shake their idols’ hands, saying things like ‘ _you are their heroes_ ’.

 _Their eyes…_ Avarice found herself unable to turn away from the _way_ fans looked at them all. Like they were legends walking among commonfolk, there to reassure them that they were safe. That the world would be alright. 

A little girl walked up to their table. A cute kid, with freckles and wavy blonde hair, hugging a ‘Tibbers’ plushie close to her chest. Ahri smiled down at her, beautiful as a fairy that just stepped out of a bard's tale.

“Hi, sweetie.” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Lizzie.” the girl shyly replied, holding onto her stuffed bear tighter. “You are so cool.” Stars swam in her doe eyes. 

Avarice’s lips tugged into a gentle smile. Kai’sa went ‘aww’ and Akali drew a little heart next to her signature at the autograph.

“But who is _the_ coolest?” Evelynn asked, one perfectly arched eyebrow rising. Avarice rolled her eyes. Apparently, not even kids were spared from the demoness’ merciless teasing.

Lizzie blushed. Carefully raised her tiny fingers… and pointed between Avarice and Evelynn. A small laugh escaped the group. _‘Congrats on having amazing taste’_ the diva wrote down next to her signature in flawless, looped letters. 

As Fenrir watched her skip to her parents, overeager, talking animatedly to them until they were out of view, she was hit by a stark realization. That was the whole point of the League’s numerous events; to bring champions and summoners off their pedestal, down to the world’s level. To realize their role, to see people’s eyes as they gazed upon them with such—

 _Hope_.

“I'll be right back.” Avarice said, excusing herself. She didn’t know why the idea of her as some kid’s personal hero struck her so _wrong_. Perhaps because it so powerfully opposed her idea of herself.

Fenrir followed several sets of stairs to the roof, outside, where air came a little easier into her lungs. Away from the commotion below, the city around glimmered with quiet, soft lights like a mirror of the sky itself. Ocean eyes were cast as far as they could see, the jagged line where the mountains met the sky. 

And then—

She became aware of a hostile presence behind her.

Avarice turned, the motion sharp enough to cut. Her weapons formed in phantom shapes in the air around her.

A chilling chuckle sent its echo throughout her insides. She recognized that laugh. 

_It can’t—!_

“I should have known you would sense me, Avarice.” the booming, distorted voice haunting every waking thought, every nightmare, was then _real_.

A faceless white mask stepped out of a conflux of crimson shadows. Avarice’s blood turned to _ice_ in her veins.

“After all, the two of us are tied by fate.” The Leader of the cult stood before her, her worst fear manifested. 

“ _You_ —!” A furious growl escaped her. Fenrir’s visage twisted like that of a snarling wolf’s.

“That is no way to greet the man who gave you eternal life.” That deadly calm, that dead tone, even as they _pierced_ her—

She wanted to shout, to scream, to _skewer_ him alive. But the summoner was nailed in place, chocked by her own emotions, by the panic rising in the pit of her chest. “You _took_ my life.”

“No. I gave you power. I gave you _sight_.” his voice shifted at the last word. “And now, I need to call upon your eyes. The time is drawing closer –do you feel it?” he asked. “I need you to give me the location of the largest Rune fragment you see, Avarice.”

A bark of a laugh escaped her. “You will die like the rest of your freaks, _scum_!”

“Their deaths were necessary for our plan, whether they knew that or not.” There was no sarcasm in his tone –no emotion. “But, here, now, you have another choice to make; give me the information I need and the people below you can see another sunrise. If you refuse, I will detonate them all.”

Avarice blinked through her hate and turned her true sight below the dome. She could see tiny flames moving, intentions and desires igniting in a plume around them. But she could also see— a writhing _red_. A tendril, like a snake, a rune atop its head, coiling around someone’s life, spreading like poison throughout it. An abomination of foul energy. She’d seen something similar before—

_The fox’s mana bomb._

Every cell in Avarice’s body was screaming for vengeance.

Her weapons fully materialized around her. Drew back in a raging magical screech–

And shattered a side of the dome, helping her leap through it into the gasping world beneath her. She knew there was no time for subtlety; as she descended, Avarice shouted at the top of her lungs “Get everyone out of here! There’s a _bomb_!”

Evelynn was the first to spring into action, grabbing a couple of kids by the collar and phasing outside like a phantom. The other champions present then leapt into the fray, hauling people outside.

Fenrir used her magic to slow the fall and rolled over her shoulder to redirect the momentum at the end. She immediately _flashed_ into the person poisoned by the cult, grabbed his neck and held him in an inescapable headlock.

“P-please let me go! Let me get to safety!” the man screamed. Avarice’s wide eyes turned to the soul in her arms.

He—was telling the truth. He was _mortified;_ he had no idea what was happening to him, although his chest was beginning to glow with an unearthly light…

Her eyes prickled with tears.

“Let him go, Avarice!” Ryze’s voice came from her side. The archmage was advancing towards her, until the look on her face made him freeze. Made him realize.

“Please!”

A wet trail ran down her cheek.

“He’s the bomb.” she croaked out in a broken whisper.

Ryze’s gaze dropped to the victim's chest. Then up to hers, broken-hearted.

He blinked forward, grabbed the man from her arms and pushed her back. “Get out of here.” he said, the arcane marks all over his body igniting. A portal opened beneath his feet, swallowing them both whole.

Avarice started running towards the exit, her vision blurred.

_Monsters…! How many more innocents have to die?_

Everyone was outside, holding their breath. All eyes turned to her as Avarice stepped past the threshold—

Ryze’s portal once again opened up at the center of the mall.

But the blast wave followed through it.

Avarice was shoved forward by the overpressurized air, crashing so hard into the pavement her ribs cracked.

A terrible rumbling came from behind her. The whole structure shook to crumble, the glass dome shattering like a fragmentation grenade while people screamed, ducking down to protect themselves from the rain of glass.

Blue eyes looked up through the chaos… and the sight that greeted them was heart-stopping. Lizzie was kneeled over her teddy bear, while a shard half the side of her body was headed straight towards her.

“Watch out!” Avarice screamed, but her voice was drowned in a sea of cries. The summoner hauled herself up despite the burning fractures of her ribs.

Vayne tumbled over to the girl, pulling her in her arms, a valiant human shield.

 _She'll die!_ was Avarice’s last thought before she _reacted._

A fraction of a second later, agony seared throughout Fenrir’s chest. It felt like she was cut in _half_ , a pain unlike any she’d experienced before. Her body went into shock from it, from having her heart _broken_ in her very body; her mind reeled. A thin trail of blood escaped the corner of her lips.

The last thing she became aware of was the shock written in Vayne’s wide eyes; the terror painted on her fair features.

“Avarice?! _No_!” she shouted, or someone else did.

The world tilted. Shattered. Avarice collapsed, a torn marionette.

Vayne’s hand was cold on her face as it cradled her.

Avarice looked past it, at the glacial _fury_ in Evelynn’s twilight eyes, before everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An action-packed chapter this time, where everything effectively goes to sh*t. No, I don't like hurting my baby Avarice but sometimes it's necessary for the progression of the story :(. Just when she gets a month of peace to herself, to find some sense of normalcy in her life, it all gets messed up in the worst way. We are steadily approaching the end of this fic, in just a few chapters. Prepare for things to get heated!
> 
> Stay cool, stay healthy, see you next week! :)


	18. Chapter 18

**[Evelynn]**

Evelynn hadn’t really _cared_ to rescue anyone present.

The lives she did save were mostly a side-effect of maintaining her image, of acting according to the cameras’ expectations –and Avarice’s wishes. She couldn’t very well remain in her seat and check her nails while her surroundings were getting blown to bits… although it would have made for quite an interesting scene.

The demoness’ body was forced into the motion of evacuating humans. Once everyone was safely outside, however, golden eyes locked onto the only targets she deemed of any importance. Her team was gathered around panicked children, offering reassurances to calm them down. Evelynn swooped in like a shadow, pulling them into her side. Any protest was cut off by a deadly bronze glare.

_Enough heroics for one day._

_But where is Avarice?_ Evelynn barely had the time to wonder, or to see her walking past the threshold with tear-shimmering eyes.

A horrifying rumble shook the earth.

Then everything went to shit.

Evelynn reacted faster than everyone else; grabbed Akali and Ahri by the nape like baby kittens and pushed them down, heads under her arms, upon the initial blast wave. She trusted Kai’sa’s void-suit to protect her, but kept the girl behind her just in case. The rest of the world could perish –she couldn’t even pretend to bother. Force pushed against her skin, but heat was barely felt as a caress.

“Watch out!” Avarice’s cry reached her ears through the screams and the hail of debris and glass.

Evelynn looked up past the rising plume of dust. Then she saw it, the massive shard headed towards the little girl who had come to their table for an autograph earlier.

She was _far_. There was no guarantee, even with her speed, the demoness would reach her in time. Meanwhile, she blocked another sizeable fragment from piercing Akali with her shoulder.

She watched as Vayne tumbled forward and pulled the girl in her arms, baring her back in the process.

 _Good riddance._ Evelynn thought darkly. The edge of her mouth curved upwards like a knife.

But it wasn’t Vayne who was stabbed through, in the end.

Amber orbs widened.

_No!_

The world went muted, encased in ice, for a while.

Then it went up in _flames_. 

Evelynn stood, her eyes a slitted, stark yellow as she approached, a terror among bowed men. Vayne, for once blind to her, was cradling Avarice’s dainty face in her hands, looking frantically from her constricted pupils to the massive spike embedded in her back, peeking through her chest, right where her heart should be beating. Ryze was _dashing_ to get between them.

“Get _away_ from her.” Evelynn seethed, a cold distortion in her deadly tone.

In that moment, she didn’t give a damn about the false, perfect image she projected to the world. In that moment, if Vayne didn’t step away from Avarice, she would tear her skin off her bones and rip her to _shreds_.

The Night-Hunter had the self-preservation instinct to draw back. Seconds later her muscles coiled, ready to spring right ahead to attack—

But Ryze held her in place. 

Evelynn paid them no mind as she leaned over Avarice, assessing the damage. The girl’s lungs were pierced, her heart was destroyed. The summoner had gone into shock from it –couldn’t shake it off, couldn’t see her. She was in _agony_ and her body had not yet began healing. For once, the demoness didn’t feel any pleasure from her pain. Instead, she tasted something bitter in the back of her throat, like swallowing acid.

“I’m here, darling.” she said, placing a hand on Avarice’s neck, then shifting her slightly, at the angle she needed to remove the glass. “You’re going to be fine.” Evelynn’s hands and designer clothes were gradually turning crimson. She didn’t care. Her fingers closed around the shard.

“Get that monster off of her!” Vayne shouted from the background, but Ryze did not let go of her, didn’t move.

Evelynn pulled out the glass in one clean, swift move. Avarice twitched sharply, yet superior demonic strength held her still. The diva carefully lifted her up in her arms, balanced her head on her shoulder. She turned towards Ryze.

“Teleport us to Soraka _now_.”

The archmage mutely loosened his hold on Vayne, who gave him a killer look. He walked over to the diva, expression dead-even, unreadable. Perhaps deep in thought. The markings all over his skin lit up…

…and their surroundings shifted.

Evelynn blinked several times to clear the nauseating pull of teleportation. Once the magic portal settled, they were right outside the Institute’s Medical Wing.

“…She’s not human, is she?” Ryze’s voice came, a question laced with certainty, as Evelynn walked away.

She offered him no explanation.

…

Soraka had her work cut out for her for the night.

While the rest of the wounded champions and summoners were teleported in, her assistants ran around trying to accommodate everyone. It was clear the League did not have enough medical staff for a situation of that scale. Perhaps an oversight, perhaps a mistake born out of the Institute thinking itself too secure.

“Bring her in. Careful as you lower her.” Soraka said hastily. For once, Evelynn did not make a snide comment as she obliged.

Avarice was gently set down on the bed. The Starchild tore her shirt off to examine the wound. Evelynn hovered by, silent as a statue, while the former goddess tended to the girl. 

_Something’s off here._ The demoness thought, never taking her gaze off the summoner. _Last time she’d suffered severe burns and fractures that started to heal in a matter of hours._

Soraka’s furrowed brow betrayed her worry through her mask of professionalism. A green potion was quickly snatched from a nearby shelf. The celestial looked up at Evelynn. “Help me hold her.” she said, like it pained her to even get the words out, to ask for her aid. The diva was over Avarice in an instant, pinning her against the mattress. “She’ll retaliate. And this will hurt.” Soraka warned.

Evelynn clenched her jaw. Upon the first drop of the lime-hued liquid onto the wound, Fenrir’s aura roared, lashed out like a crackling whip. Sharp pain was leeched by the demoness’ senses, translated into dizzying, hot strength. Evelynn held her tighter against the bed and herself.

The situation reminded her of how much energy she’d lost in all the commotion.

_This isn’t good._

By the time the vial was empty, Soraka retrieved a salve and began applying it over the nasty puncture. Evelynn spoke up to distract herself from the growing pangs of hunger. 

“Why isn’t she healing yet? This isn’t normal.”

“And you would know _exactly_ how fast she heals.” Soraka narrowed her eyes at her, raw ice, all previous patience giving way to hardness.

“I know a _lot_ of things about her.” Evelynn replied, forcing a smug, challenging smirk onto her mouth. She’d continue, really drive the point in, but she wanted the answer to her question more than she wanted to prod at the doctor. 

The Starchild let out a huff. She looked sideways, as though contemplating whether to let her in on the sensitive piece of information. She drew her surgical mask down and fixed Evelynn with another firm look. “It’s because her heart was pierced.”

The demoness waited for further explanation that never came. “So?” she pressed. “I’ve seen her survive far worse.” Soraka’s expression shifted to alarm for a moment, before she realized Evelynn _wasn’t_ the cause of that 'far worse' scenario.

“Lichdom is a cursed state of being that initially comes with many weaknesses.” she said. “The mind, the soul, take far longer to adapt than the body. And sadly, the accelerated healing is tied directly to them. It’s one thing to lose a limb, another to have a vital organ destroyed. Her mind has gone into shock and thinks it’s dying –and it won’t let her body heal.”

“I see.” Evelynn nodded. “No way to avoid this happening again?”

Soraka drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Many liches over the eons actually had their hearts removed to avoid these scenarios. …Along with other abhorrent procedures I’d rather not go into detail on.”

Evelynn’s interest was piqued, but it was clear Soraka would not discuss the matter any further, already disgusted by the concept. It was a wonder she spoke that much to begin with. Probably thought it was better if the demoness found out from her rather than anyone else.

“I can’t say how long she will be like this. But it won’t kill her –not many things will.” the former goddess said, deft fingers wrapping Avarice’s torso in bandages. “You have shards on you.” she commented a second later, motioning to her own shoulder.

Evelynn hadn’t noticed. She turned her attention to the glass stuck in her skin, brushing it off without much care. She couldn’t feel it, anyways. Soraka very obviously tried not to wince at the motion.

The demoness let her gaze fall over Avarice, struggling to gasp in tiny breaths, every now and then. Shivering. Hurting. She ran a crimson-coated finger over her vulnerable jawline.

“I will ask you to go now.” Soraka’s voice was a quiet command. The diva had been expecting it, of course.

She didn’t have the energy to argue.

Yet the second she went to turn away from Avarice, the girl’s hand weakly grasped her own like an anchor.

“Eve…” she whispered, delirious. The demoness immediately sat next to her, brought their hands into her lap.

Amber eyes looked up at Soraka. “I’m not leaving.”

Of course, the Institute rules decreed that the celestial’s word was law in the medical wing. No individual was allowed to cross her. Which meant the Starchild could very easily get her reported and banned for staying without permission, adding in patient harassment if she really wanted to make Evelynn’s existence more difficult. In that case, the diva was aware she’d probably die in a week of isolation, without sustenance.

There truly was no explanation why she was doing something so stupid.

Soraka’s faint, subtle nod was a surprise.

“If you cause _any_ trouble, if you so much as _breathe_ the wrong way, you’re going straight to the Tribunal. And Kayle already has it out for you.” she warned sternly, a purple finger pointed straight at her.

“You won’t even notice I’m here.” Evelynn drawled, hands up in a mock-sign of peace as she leaned back against the headboard.

“I’ll try.” Soraka grimaced. “And for the love of gods, get that blood cleaned off.”

Evelynn rolled her eyes.

She text Ahri to bring her a change of clothes.

It was going to be a long night.

…

Nights.

Avarice had been in and out of consciousness for three full days. Evelynn had to leave her side only when the hunger really got to her, made her limbs heavy and her thoughts dark, made the summoner sleeping beside her look like a very attractive meal.

She left Akali in her stead and very pointedly ignored Vayne’s door as she passed it on her way out of the Medical Wing. Evelynn had to torture an entire team of campers near Demacia to even be able to assume her human form flawlessly again.

Late at night, she returned to the Institute and went straight for Avarice’s room. Outside the ajar door, she heard laughter. Paused.

“So this one’s from Kai’sa and this is from Ahri.” Akali said. Evelynn carefully peeked through the opening. The rogue was sitting where she had been, by Avarice’s head, smiling down at her while displaying the flowers and chocolate her teammates had sent. Avarice was looking up, eyes bright like stars, chuckling shyly. “You have a _crap_ ton of mail and messages from your fans and from champions who saw you kicking ass out there. Not to mention everyone’s talking about you.”

“Nooo…” Avarice turned into her pillow.

They looked… so normal together.

Evelynn couldn’t say why the thought brought her anger.

Avarice looked good with Akali and she would look good with her, or someone else, even when the demoness was—

Gone.

Evelynn took a step back. And another. And another.

 _What am I even doing, wasting my time here?_ Surely, she had better things to do outside than wait over a wounded summoner like some type of shadowy guardian gargoyle.

“Where is Evelynn?” Avarice’s voice reached her ears.

“Should be here soon. Ish.” Akali said, checking the clock.

The demoness waited. Tapped her nails on her bicep. Weighted her options. Then she let out a frustrated huff. Wore her best smile, pushed the door and entered with all the charm in the world.

“Hello~” she greeted casually.

“Wow, it’s like you summoned her.” Akali threw her hands up, rising to hand Evelynn’s spot over. The diva wasted no time in reclaiming her seat. Avarice looked at her in a quiet, fond sort of way. “I’m leaving you guys alone for now. Avarice, if you need help with Eve, call Ahri because I can’t handle it.”

Avarice chuckled, then winced a little, bringing a hand up to her chest. A bead of red showed through the bandages. It was astonishing that she still hadn’t healed completely.

The door closed with a soft click. Evelynn shifted further towards Fenrir, who slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. She looked exhausted, but still somehow a tousled type of sexy. Especially with so much taut skin on display. Evelynn’s eye wondered, until it settled back on her face, framed by the beautiful earrings she’d gifted her. Avarice hadn’t taken them off since and the diva only then realized she really _liked_ that.

“What you did back there—” she began.

“Don’t say it—”

“Was very stupid.” Evelynn said it anyway.

Avarice let out a sigh. “I knew it wouldn’t kill me. What did you want me to do, let Vayne die?”

Evelynn gave her a blatant, openly ‘duh’ look. “Yes?”

“Well, _no_.”

“You can lie to the media all you want about being lucky, but you do realize the hunter of everything inhuman saw you –up close— getting pierced through the _heart_. And survive.” Evelynn spoke in a firmer tone. “Added to your association with me, that should ring warning bells for you. Stay _away_ from her at all costs. But if she does come after you still, call me and I’ll kill her.”

“I wasn’t planning on being best friends. And no killings needed.” Avarice commented. Paused for a second. “…So, you’ve been here for three whole days?” a slim eyebrow was playfully raised.

“No.” The lie rolled easily off Evelynn’s tongue.

“Soraka said so.”

“She lied.” One pale shoulder shrugged.

Fenrir shook her head. “Soraka doesn’t lie.”

“You look edible, by the way.” Evelynn said to change the subject, smirking. 

Pretty blue eyes rolled. “I find that hard to believe, but thanks.”

A manicured finger hooked under the girl’s chin. Their gazes locked, magnets drawn to the other’s pull. The demoness traced the skin there for a moment before she guided her closer, pressing their lips together. It was still a mystery to her why she kept doing that, when she didn’t exactly _feel_ much from the contact while they weren’t bonded. A faint press was about all she could register. Still, there was something oddly satisfying about having the summoner’s soft mouth under hers.

Avarice initially leaned into her touch but was also the first to draw back. “Don’t. I smell like too much disinfectant.” Her nose scrunched cutely.

“Well, I can rub myself on you and then you will smell like ‘ _Imperial Majesty’_ too.” Evelynn sexily bit her lip for effect. Avarice flushed pink to the very tips of her ears.

“…I’m very glad my heart’s not beating.” the girl confessed under her breath.

“Why?” Evelynn asked.

“Because being around you would be very painful, then.”

The diva smiled. Lowered her mouth to Avarice’s bare shoulder and kept it there.

Out of her myriad conquests, all the sinful sensations she could induce in men and women with a single look… she was certain if she could be, she would be the proudest to hear Fenrir admit that out loud between them.

…

Avarice was finally discharged by the end of the week.

Evelynn decided to give her some space to adjust, continue her matches or take some time to herself if she needed it. The summoner surprised her by calling first, asking to meet up at her mansion. When the diva suggested picking her up, Fenrir told her that she should just wait.

So wait she did.

Evelynn made sure she was fed. Dressed in a fancy purple drop-shoulder blouse and tight black pants that showed off her assets wonderfully. Usually, people wanted to see her with less rather than more, but it was an already-established fact Avarice wasn’t anything like them. The girl could handle her being in underwear, barely, but the sight of the diva in anything that fully covered her legs for some reason just _undid_ her.

And the demoness very much wanted to undo her. And do her.

The doorbell rang. Evelynn rose from her couch in all the grace of a queen to answer it.

Avarice was looking like a treat in her stylish, slim grey coat and dark jeans. A chocolate-filled, heart-shaped box was held in her right hand, wrapped up as a gift. Tied on top of it was a small, white teddy bear riding what looked like a cabrio purple Lamborghini. The summoner handed her the box with a very sheepish smile.

“Hey. This is for you.” she said.

Evelynn’s deadly charm and effortless confidence faded a bit as she accepted the gift. Her mind worked, trying to pinpoint if there was any important date she may have missed. Her surprise must have shown, because Avarice spoke up.

“Remember, way back, when I kept asking when your birthday was and you gave me a random date to shut me up?” she asked, chuckling. The memory then dawned on the diva. “Well, it’s today. I know it’s not your _actual_ birthday but I thought ‘why not’. Also… say something? Because I really _did_ try hard to get the bear. Not that it was my fault your Lamborghini got destroyed –it’s your fault, actually— but it was cool so I do kind of feel bad—”

Evelynn grabbed her by the lapel and kissed her.

Wrapped the arm holding the chocolate-bearing-bear around her shoulders and held her flush against her, her free hand at the side of her neck. She expertly slid her tongue over Fenrir’s glossy bottom lip, brushed the very tip of it over her own. Avarice let out a tiny gasp as Evelynn softly sucked on her. The demoness dominated the kiss until the girl stood a shivering wreck in her arms –and only then did she draw back. Wiped a lipstick smudge from the corner of her summoner’s lip.

“Thank you.” Evelynn gave a wink and turned to go inside.

Avarice remained a pillar of salt at the door.

 _Oops. Did I break her?_ The diva thought. She did pour eons of practice into that liplock –maybe it was overkill. Pale fingers reached out and grasped Fenrir once more by the jacket, drawing her in.

The girl went to remove the garb, but Evelynn stopped her.

“Don’t. I want to do it myself.” she breathed against her ear. Held her close, as she took her achingly sweet time with every single button.

By the time she was done, Avarice’s desire was a fire licking at Evelynn’s skin, urging her on. She suddenly wanted her hands on her, everywhere, even if the sensation was muted. She was _hungry_ again and not just for pain.

“Are you finally trying to kill me tonight?” Avarice asked in a throaty voice.

“Isn’t it only fair that I enjoy my birthday gift?” Evelynn spoke so the words were brushed against her neck. The jacket already lay forgotten, thrown at the nearest armchair.

“ _I’m_ not your birthday gift.” Avarice said, but she wasn’t protesting. Her cool fingers slid under Evelynn’s blouse. Always _so_ respectful, her touching.

“ _You’re_ what I want.” Evelynn cooed. She pulled back just far enough to tug at Fenrir’s shirt, until the girl complied and raised her arms to help the offending fabric off. The demoness’ fingers barely traced the chain of her pendant, the smooth skin underneath it. She looked into her eyes, bottomless and dark as the abyss, as she asked: “Will you give me what I want, darling?”

Avarice licked her lip.

Nodded.

A telepathic invitation to bond was extended between them, that Evelynn all too quickly, greedily, took. Foreign echoes of feelings washed over her, singing across her void being. She tried not to press for _more_ before Fenrir was ready to share.

The diva took her lover’s hand and guided them over to her luxurious couch, sitting down first. Avarice leaned over her. Drew back _just_ far enough for their lips _not_ to touch when Evelynn went for another kiss.

“What do you want?” she asked with newfound confidence.

Evelynn didn’t even know, at that point. She was burning, in the best way imaginable and she needed Avarice’s cold touch to soothe the flames and make them worse at the same time. She wanted to have her, completely, show her that pleasure could be its own form of torture. That the things Evelynn could do to her would be so deeply gratifying they’d border on excruciating when they danced along her thoughts at lonely nights.

“Kneel.” Evelynn said. Avarice complied, dropping to one knee like a knight swearing allegiance to her. The visual alone sent warmth straight between the demoness’ legs. Lit her _up_. “Kiss me.”

Avarice leaned forward and craned her neck, locking their lips softly. Her fingers ran maddening circles at the edge of Evelynn’s bra, under her top. It took all of the diva’s willpower not to press forward and find relief against her abs. With a hand on her nape, she guided Fenrir’s mouth to the exposed side of her neck. Avarice took the cue, licked under her ear, followed the line of a non-beating artery down to the junction of her shoulder and _bit_.

Evelynn barely controlled her strength so she wouldn’t sink her nails into her skin. She took her blouse off in the middle of the makeout, damn near tore it off in her haze, throwing it somewhere to the side. Avarice drew back and stared, starstruck. The demoness really had intended to let her take in the view, play however long she fancied –her rare lead was more than a little hot— but didn’t think she could wait anymore.

“Kiss me here.” she urged, pointing to the jagged little heart tattoo she had on her left side, at the lower end of her ribs.

Avarice kissed it once, reverent. Twice. Kissed down the lines of her stomach, all the way to the waistband of her pants.

“Take them off for me.” Evelynn ordered.

The girl bit her lip as she undid the buttons there. Soon enough the fabric was laying forgotten on the floor. Avarice’s chest heaved; a wonderful sight, like a painting come to life. She waited, so very obedient for her, despite how painful her arousal was, despite how _much_ she wanted to touch.

Feeling so powerfully was dizzying for Evelynn.

Dizzying and _perfect_. 

“Good girl. Press your lips here.” She pointed to the inside of her thigh. Avarice leaned in, eyes lidded from the praise, doing as she was told.

 _‘Gods, I love your voice.’_ her thoughts echoed in the back of the diva’s mind.

Smirking, a magenta head fell back. “Higher. Suck.” One or both of them let out a deep moan when Fenrir pulled her soaked black underwear to the side and _licked_.

Evelynn’s hand fisted in her hair.

“Just like that.”

Avarice sought her free one. Laced their fingers together.

“Keep going… _!_ ”

Evelynn’s muscles locked up tight.

Small explosions went off behind her eyes, throughout her body. Through the onslaught of sensation, she fought to keep her fingers loose, to not press too hard or too much and accidentally hurt Avarice. The struggle for control somehow only added to the shocks running down her system.

When her world settled itself once more, Evelynn opened her eyes and looked down. “Don’t cut me off.” she said, before Avarice could close her mind off to safety once more.

Ocean eyes looked up, strangely vulnerable.

 _‘It’s hard not to. I’m afraid.’_ Torn between desire and the need to hide something, the thought slipped past her carefully constructed barriers. Her mental shields shook. Cracks formed. And from them bled more, bled pain and fear, a torrent pushing to break the dam—

_‘I shouldn’t feel safe with you—’_

_‘My every waking thought, he’s there—’_

_‘You mustn’t_ see _—’_

Her mind raced, terrified of a hundred different things and in the end projecting _one_. Evelynn caught a glimpse of a memory, like a fractured piece of a mirror falling down. A faceless white mask, one she recognized from the girl’s torture sessions, peered back at her behind a familiar glass dome…

Avarice cut their bond off sharp enough to give them both whiplash. Dropped her face in her hands as if to hide it all away. “Forget it, forget everything you may have seen—” her voice was so _harsh_. Directed more at herself than Evelynn, as if she was to blame for what happened at Trevale.

The demoness reached forward and pulled her straight into her arms. Held her tight, tight enough to hurt, to drive the storm building in her mind away. “Shh, darling.” she spoke, while Avarice cried silently in the crook of her neck. “Nothing can hurt you while you’re with me but me. Nobody will ever touch you again but me.”

_And all those who did will die horribly for it._

_I will break that man to pieces if it’s the last thing I do._

_…_

Slitted eyes traced every move from the deepest darkness.

Every seedy pub, every club, every shadowed corner of every city, until they caught a glimpse of what they sought.

Evelynn hated to revert back to that. A version of herself she had deemed lesser, long left behind in the yellowed pages of her past. A transparent wisp of a shade, hiding and merely observing. But it was the most efficient way to achieve her goal –and nothing was past her when it came to pursuing a target.

The cult was destroyed, dismantled by her own hand. Whatever scattered goons existed about, they didn’t weigh their faith or its false promises above their lives. After they realized the terrible fate that befell their higher-ups, they had jumped ship. Most of them. Not all.

There remained some, yet loyal, who were in it until the end. Who still spoke in hushed whispers about an apocalypse to come. A reckoning. Finding them was only a matter of patience. It took days, but Evelynn finally followed them to the source.

A waterfall deep in the heart of the jungle outside of Piltover. They gathered to once again preach about their sealed god and his herald, sent upon Runeterra ages ago to prepare the ground for his arrival. The demoness no longer held any interest to hear any of it. She stalked around the unaware humans like a predator prepared to strike.

Evelynn willed herself into her corporeal demonic form.

But—

For a second, her body stuttered. Her transformation was imperfect. Looking down at her hand, half-formed, she saw dust of what should have been two of her claws drifting in the wind. _No. Just a little longer._ She told herself and doubled down on her efforts.

A lasher, fully formed, was driven straight through the chest of the nearest cultist. The rest sprung up towards him, mortified. Some collapsed on their knees straight after from the shock. The brief surge of agony was enough to push the rest of Evelynn’s body into reality. Pearly fangs gleamed from the dark, along with fiery yellow eyes one would only see in nightmares.

“Your Leader’s not here, is he?” she laughed. “I think we can get to know each other until he arrives.”

Evelynn took her time. She broke everything that could be broken and tore everything that could be torn without allowing her victims to lose their senses, or die on her quickly. She drank up the pain, nourishment that would be temporary. Threw away the rest in a pile of limbs and bodies, that she formed into a sort of throne for her to sit upon as she waited.

And waited.

Until she had to wait no more.

A portal opened a few ways ahead of her kingdom of carnage; a mask she had never seen before but recognized all too well stepped out of it. Faceless white, among the blackness of the cult’s trademark robes.

“So we finally meet.” she spoke. “The ‘greatest admirer of my work’, is it?” her voice came out heavily distorted by the demonic shade lingering around her like a plume.

It was –odd. The man held no fear as he gazed upon the gore surrounding them. Instead, he was overcome with awe, with admiration. He lowered himself to one knee before Evelynn, one hand over his chest in reverence. 

“Finally. You stand before me and the time is right.” his voice sounded strange. Coming from around him, rather than within him.

“Well, let’s get right down to business, then.” Evelynn stood, lashers flexing, itching to cut away at him inch by inch.

“I know you have come to kill me. You think taking the girl away was a grave offense; but I knew from the moment you chose her that she was the one. I returned her to you stronger, immortal.” he said.

Evelynn’s gaze narrowed. … _I chose her?_

“I knew that she would make it, just like He showed me she would. I knew every single decision would lead me here. Deep down, I think the others knew, as well.” the mask rose, perhaps the man was looking at her, though it was impossible to tell. “Just as I know this will not be the end of me.”

“Yes?” Evelynn smirked. The next heartbeat she was right up to his face, one lasher poised at the hollow of his throat. “What reason do I have not to end you right away?”

“I can reveal to you the truth. About what you are. About what you are meant to become. And about… how to _live_.” The Leader then reached up to his face. Unclasped the mask from its fastenings there and let it slip away…

To reveal–

An _abomination_.

A heavily distorted face lay underneath it, scarred lips leading up to a narrow nose, above which was a rune-like symbol etched into the man’s –if he could even be called that— skin. From his forehead, down his eyes and cheeks, like a malformed serpent trying to devour itself. One of his eyes was milky-white, the other maroon. And at the center of his forehead was a third, which made Evelynn freeze dead and cold in her steps. An eye that was peering straight through her being, slitted yellow and _petrifying_.

That wasn’t the eye of a human. It wasn’t the eye of a demon. It belonged to a being beyond comprehension and it certainly had no place on anything _living_.

And the worst part was—

Evelynn _recognized_ it, but she didn’t know _how_.

“I tried –!” he exclaimed. “As soon as I found the eye of our God, which saved my life, elevated my purpose, I never stopped trying to be the one. To perform the ritual upon myself. But it didn’t _work_. For centuries, it’s never worked on anybody –it was unattainable, the _Sight_.”

Evelynn realized then what he was. A lich, who had removed his vital organs just like Soraka had said. Who had probably done all of the practices she didn’t want to speak about, to eliminate his weakness, to cut and add parts to his body until he became what he wished to be.

Except the one thing crucial to his primeval being's plans.

“But He showed me _you_. And you showed me _her_. Everything made sense when she succeeded where all others failed.”

Evelynn wanted to silence him forever. At the same time, stood frozen in place by that eye focused directly on her. She was aware she was on the brink of a terrible revelation. Except, not so certain she wanted to witness it.

“You, Great Demon, are the Herald left behind by the dying echoes of our God, when the arrogant Celestials sealed him away. Yet they could not bind Him completely; you remained as a result, His shadow, a scar upon Runeterra so the world would not forget. So, one day, He may be whole again.”

 _Whole_.

Evelynn took a step back.

She didn’t want to accept it—

The part of her that had always been _missing_ —

_Half of a whole._

It made too much sense then, why the eye peering back at her was like looking in a mirror.

“Then explain to me why I’m – _fading_.” she snarled, demanded. She spoke to the thing behind the man, the thing always watching.

“The seal forced upon Him draws at your energy, too. Wants you to return to an eternal sleep in the void, so you may never unite and challenge the Celestials again. But there is a way to break it apart. Something these gods never intended to exist—”

“The World Runes.” she breathed. The very things that gave her life in the first place, from the agony they spread across humans. The Leader secured his mask over his abhorrent face once more. “Tell me where the fragments are!” her voice boomed like thunder.

“I cannot tell you where they are, Great Demon. I do not know.”

Evelynn’s eyes widened with the realization of what the ‘Sight’ he spoke of truly was.

_All this time, I’ve been searching for a way to survive…_

_And it was right in front of me._

“You should ask Avarice what it is her eyes truly see when she looks upon the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but by now you all know my guilty pleasure of writing horny Evelynn so. I had to take the chance before everything effectively goes to shit. Also Avarice being impossibly sweet, at certain times, to her demon totally-not-girlfriend is a weakness of mine. And K/DA ship them hard, it's canon :p. 
> 
> Just to share some thoughts, I think everyone except Evelynn recognizes how different Evelynn acts around Avarice. Even Soraka, who as a healer (who practically gave up her godhood to ease the pain of mortals in their world, rather than stare from the stars like the rest of the celestials) hated the demoness for the agony she caused, allowed her, a torturer, to linger in a place of healing beside Avarice. That says a lot. 
> 
> Thank you all for your wonderful comments, I would never have the drive to pop out chapters this fast without them :) As always, stay awesome!


	19. Chapter 19

**[Avarice]**

Avarice had gotten used to having Evelynn close. Perhaps too much.

If not her, then her attention, in one form or another. A flirty text, a hot voicemail, flowers delivered to her house or her dorm room. For the past week, however, she had nothing. Radio silence.

And it was unnerving beyond measure.

A sentiment she was adamantly unwilling to admit, yet was daily haunted by, regardless.

After her first few texts went unread and her two calls unanswered, Avarice gave up on trying to reach the diva. Perhaps she was too busy with her upcoming concert –but no, the girl knew that was only an excuse she’d like to make up. Perhaps… she had finally gotten bored of her. Luckily, Fenrir had mastered the art of lying to herself by that point. So, lie she did, that the notion didn’t hurt, not at all, not like a burning knife was digging through her chest for her heart. Not like that shard had been, when it ran her through.

Well. Maybe a tiny bit similar.

But Evelynn was Evelynn and Avarice would be a fool to say she hadn’t expected it. She’d be even more of a fool to hope that there could ever be anything more than sex between them. And the queen of all fools, to dare _dream_ —

 _What, exactly?!_ Avarice angrily asked herself as she walked across the bridge connecting the two sides of the bigger lake within the Institute. _Coffee dates and cuddly movie nights with her?!_ She kicked the first pebble unlucky enough to be in her way so forcefully into the water it became a speeding bullet, crashing in and scaring the sleeping ducks there, who flapped around helplessly, alarmed.

Fenrir immediately winced. Leaned over the wooden railing to make sure they were all alright. There seemed to be no casualties, as the fluffy animals gradually calmed and sought the edge of the water, where it gently lapped at the bushes nearby, to sleep once more.

A relieved sigh escaped her lips.

Then, footsteps on the bridge told her she wasn’t alone.

Avarice’s attention snapped up, at the red-and-navy clad figure approaching, bathed by moonlight. Silver adorned her shoulders, wrists and multiple belts, the billowing edges of her cape. The terrifying crossbow strapped to her back, that the summoner could picture pointed towards her chest. Vayne’s night-vision glasses gleamed in the dark, rendered it impossible to tell the emotions in her eyes, if there were any. Her face was a blank mask.

Avarice could feel her weapons glow protectively in her psyche but kept them from materializing in reality. No champion could harm a summoner within the Institute –and should they try, there would be a severe price to pay.

 _“Stay_ away _from her at all costs.”_ Evelynn’s voice danced in her mind.

Vayne did not stop until she stood a couple of steps from her. Her silence was nearly as intense as her stare through those red-tinted googles. “You’ve recovered remarkably well.” she commented, somehow sounding more emotionless than Evelynn, which was certainly an achievement.

“I got lucky.” Avarice forced a polite smile onto her lips.

“For someone who was pierced through the heart, surely.” came the retort.

“ _Very_ lucky then?” Fenrir let out a sad chuckle, more a sigh than a laugh. She knew she was a terrible liar and trying to convince Vayne otherwise from what she very clearly saw seemed too disrespectful to even attempt.

“ _Why_ did you do it, Fenrir?” she asked and perhaps the first slip of an emotion glimmered in her tone.

“I wasn’t going to let the girl die—”

“I would have saved the girl either way.”

 _I wasn’t going to sit by and watch_ you _die._ Avarice shrugged instead of saying. It seemed to aggravate Vayne, who took a menacing step forward. Ocean eyes turned colder in warning. 

“Exposing yourself to me was a terrible mistake. I am not going to thank you for saving my life. And you will get no savior privileges when I run into you outside the Institute.” Vayne explained. But the fact she came to say this to her face at all, a loud and clear warning to watch her back, betrayed more than she was willing to admit. “What are you?” she asked, blunt and to the point.

The tension drained from Avarice’s muscles as she guided her body to lean back against the railing. She looked at Vayne’s carefully constructed visage and allowed her eyes to _see_. Past the shell, down to the core. She was _burning_ , with hatred, with trauma too deeply rooted to ever heal. But there was more than animosity there –she knew it, too… and she loathed all the more for it. There were too many questions, too many ‘why’s.

“I’m something silver won’t kill, I can tell you that much.” Avarice replied.

 _‘Why are you one of_ them _?!’_ something in her aura cried out, too loud for the lich to ignore.

“Does it hurt to know a monster would die to protect people, too?”

Vayne’s soul gave a violent, sharp pulse at that. On the outside, her fingers merely curled into a fist. Cracks were starting to form on the outermost edges of her mask. The summoner knew she hit a vital point. Didn’t regret it. “There is no such thing as a ‘ _good’_ supernatural. Impurity is impurity.”

“Fair.” Avarice said. She wouldn’t exactly call herself virtuous, either.

“But there is something so unbelievably _aggravating_ about someone –some _thing_ — that’s concerned over a couple of ducks associating itself with that _demon_!” and there it was, the snap, where Vayne’s face morphed into pure, unrestrained anger.

Avarice mutely looked at her with soft eyes.

“Don’t you know what’s going to happen to you in the end?! Don’t you care?!” she demanded.

Fenrir smiled. “Why do you?”

Vayne’s outburst died down to a speechless frost. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” her voice went devoid of emotion again, like it had never been anything but. “About her …or about me.” was the last thing she said before she began walking away. The sound of her boots against the wooden bridge grew farther and farther… until it disappeared into the night.

Avarice turned around. Cast her gaze over the water.

Why did she latch onto Evelynn so strongly, indeed?

_Why?_

Deep down, the answer shimmered like treasure sunken under murky water. Because after what happened to her…

_She made me want to live again._

…

Avarice tossed and turned at night.

In her dreams, she stood in darkness. But it was cold, in a way shadows alone shouldn’t be. Had no right to be. She was struggling to breathe, to think. The ground beneath her feet was sinking, pulling her deeper in…

There was something there, stirring. _Watching_ —

A loud noise by her ear snapped Fenrir out of her nightmares. It was disorienting to wake up so abruptly, but she was more than thankful for the interruption. It took several seconds for her lagging brain to realize the sound was her ringtone. Blue eyes blinked to focus on the digital clock on her bedside table. It read three in the morning.

And Evelynn was calling her.

Avarice stood a heartbeat away from telling her to go _fuck_ herself when she answered. But something about her perfect damn voice made her freeze the second she heard it so close to her ear.

_“Hey, darling. Did I wake you?”_

“Oh no, who the _fuck_ sleeps at three, anyway?” Fenrir replied through no small amount of sarcasm. “Can you pretend to be normal for, like, five minutes?”

Evelynn laughed. A laugh so hauntingly beautiful it shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Avarice’s heart did funny things in her chest that she blamed on the healed wound, even if it hadn’t left a trace behind. _“Sure, whatever you want, honey.”_

“I want a good reason not to hung up.” Fenrir said into the speaker.

 _“Does me wanting to hear your voice count?”_ Sure, Evelynn sounded genuine. But that didn’t mean absolutely anything, since she could sound like whatever she wanted.

 _After a week of not exactly dying to hear my voice_ … “No.” Avarice replied coldly. _I wish I could believe your shit._ she thought. “Goodnight, Evelynn.”

 _“Can you come outside for a moment?”_ The way she sounded then, if she were human, Avarice would call her exhausted.

The summoner shook her head, mostly at herself, as she rose and padded over to her window. She pulled the curtain aside, her eyes briefly assaulted by moonlight, before they fell over the garden of the GrandMaster dorm. A dark silhouette stood there, lonely amidst the flowers.

Logic claimed Avarice shouldn’t go, but her body followed through the motion of exiting her room and going down the corridors and stairs on autopilot. Something inside her would always surrender to Evelynn’s tidal pull –and she was convinced it was the same part of her that would get her killed, in the end.

The diva was a vision in her fancy dark coat as she turned to greet her. Gorgeous like a nymph born out of men’s fantasies –which, in a way, she was. Her lips, dark as they were soft and moist, glittered under the dim light of the atmosphere.

Avarice glared at her.

The demoness drew closer, undeterred.

She expected Evelynn to brush it all aside with an earth-shattering kiss like she always did.

She _didn’t_ expect the warm arms that wrapped around her.

She didn’t expect to be drawn into the world’s most possessive, secure embrace.

Blue eyes blinked. _What…?_ Avarice wanted to hold onto her anger, her shield, but it had already evaporated, replaced by something ardent, fierce and _dangerous_ lodged firmly in the pit of her chest. She couldn’t look at Evelynn’s eyes –gods knew how she wanted to– couldn’t even begin to fathom what prompted the odd gesture. Her arms wrapped around the woman’s narrow waist out of reflex. She numbly dropped her chin to the pale neck in front of her. Evelynn always smelled so _good_ …

Like all the things right and eloquent and beautiful with the world.

When she was anything but.

A fact that was getting harder and harder for Avarice to remind herself of when she was just _so_ —

A kiss was pressed to the curve of her jaw. “Trust me, the time you are not with me is best spent away from me.”

Avarice’s still heart wanted to argue that no time spent away from her could be for the best, but she told it to shut up before the thought could even properly materialize. Evelynn’s nails pressed against her clothes and skin. Gripped at her, as though expecting Avarice to disappear any moment.

“What brought this on?” the summoner asked quietly.

“I can’t leave my girl touch-starved and have her seeking attention elsewhere, now, can I?” there was the hint of a smirk in Evelynn’s voice, every word deliberate.

Fenrir’s mind drank in the word as greedily as she tried to deny it. “I’m—I’m _not_ —”

“Hush.” Evelynn’s smirk was very real, then, pressing against her mouth like it belonged there. When her tongue licked past the seam of her lips, Avarice struggled to recall why she’d been upset in the first place. All of the diva’s kisses were out-of-this-world sensual, a slippery freefall into liquid heat. Yet the summoner couldn’t help but feel an underlying difference in that one, like the weight of something left unsaid.

“Um.” she spoke once Evelynn drew the faintest hint back. _Words, Avarice._ “Is everything okay?”

Bewildered amber stared at her. “Why?”

“Just a feeling.” she said while trying not to blush at how _close_ they stood in an open space, where technically anyone in the dorm could look out their window and see them. It was one thing for the media to theorize about their affairs, another to be aware of them.

Evelynn’s nails tapped against her collarbone rhythmically. Lidded eyes traced the curve of her neck, the silver chain there, down to the pendant resting at her chest. Avarice couldn’t say why it all suddenly felt so _intimate_. “I wanted to tell you something.” the diva hummed.

“Okay…? I’m all ears.”

“…But tomorrow is your promos to Challenger, correct?” Evelynn’s lips curved into a smile.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll tell you after.” The champion patted the side of her head. “You need rest for your big day.”

“You _think_?” Avarice chuckled, raising her eyebrows.

“Well, if _you_ don’t, I’m sure I can find creative ways to keep you busy…” Evelynn’s fingers traced her chin as her voice took on a husky hue, tempting, promising every indecent fantasy would come to life.

Fenrir took a deep breath, summoned _all_ of her willpower to disengage. “ _No_ , I’m good! Sleep is good!”

Evelynn laughed again. Gripped her hand the second Avarice turned to go. “I’ll be watching your games. Meet me at my concert after.”

Fenrir huffed. She would be _exhausted_ , her mana reserves near-depleted. But she couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to see Evelynn perform, especially when the diva asked it of her. “I will. Goodnight.”

“Dream of me.” the diva winked.

Avarice had to roll her eyes and force her body away, because if she didn’t do it then, she never would.

…

Avarice had been a mess up until that point. In her life –in what was left of it.

She’d like to claim it didn’t, but it had reflected upon her matches, weighed heavily upon her bond with Warwick. Tore them apart as powerfully as it lagged them behind. There had been too much in the way, emotional debris, clogging their connection.

That day, however, when she stepped into the GrandMasters’ arena… everything clicked into place. Her champion by her side, her role in her surroundings. Herself.

Her power, dark as it was, earned through screams and agony as it was –it was still _hers_.

Warwick gazed at her with something like pride as their minds aligned. “You’ve come a long way.” he said. “But there’s one more step to climb.”

Avarice was ready to climb it. Her calm directed the poisonous rage in the wolf’s veins to something that would make them stronger together. His wild strength became hers to tame, his insatiable drive covered her uncertainties. He willingly became the seventh addition to her bound weapons –because he saw from her eyes, in her eyes, that he would never be her tool. Warwick stood in the rift not only as her partner, but as her claws.

And they were a hurricane sweeping across the jungle.

Avarice was named after a legend, but it had taken long to realize she couldn’t support that weight by herself.

Wolves, after all, were at their strongest hunting with their pack.

 _They_ were Fenrir.

Worlds crumbled before their open jaws.

…

It took nearly the entire evening to get through the interviews, the snapping cameras and the summoners walking up to congratulate her for her ascension to Challenger. Though the official Ranking ceremony, singular to the top rank, took place only four times every year and she would have to remain in the GrandMaster dorm until then, Avarice was immediately allowed access to the Challenger privileges in the Institute –and they were _many_.

High-stake matches for ridiculous amounts of money. Sponsorships and team contracts for nothing less than the World _Championship_. Luxury beyond one’s wildest dreams, from VIP lounges to exclusive bars, to training rooms and arenas, to the seemingly gods-crafted facilities of the elite dorm. She couldn’t live there yet, but the spas, the pools and all common rooms were fair game.

Yet none of that seemed as important, in that moment, as getting to K/DA’s concert in time.

Avarice was late. Not terribly, but late _enough_.

The place was _packed_. There was absolutely no way to squeeze into a spot where she could even see the pop stars, with how badly fans were jumping, screaming and waving giant posters around.

Until a security guard came up to her –a wonder that he even spotted her in the chaos— and politely asked her to follow. Avarice tried, though failed, not to blush at the front-line VIP seat, right at the foot of the stage, that Evelynn had no doubt reserved for her. She caught the diva’s eye at the end of the current song, before the platform went dark to set the mood for their next one.

If it seemed like all band members perked up at the sight of her, Avarice dismissed it as a trick of the light.

Darkness and rising smoke reigned supreme for a few moments.

Then, sad notes from Sona’s synthesizer began to crash onto the audience like sparse raindrops. A single, soft mauve beam fell atop Kai’sa as she sang the opening lyrics, bursting forth another wave of cheers.

“Even though I’m crying out, I hide all my feelings and keep on smiling for you~”

“Even though I’m hurting now, I’ll fake that I’m stronger ‘cause everything’s all for you~” Akali continued, a heavy, pained expression on her beautiful features that perfectly matched the vibe of the song.

“Wish that our love all on its own could be perfect; wishing that I could hide my flaws, keep them hidden…” Ahri’s softer voice soothed over the rogue’s, her face a broken-hearted dream. A neon-lit, cracked heart started slow-pulsing on the giant screen behind the band.

But Evelynn—

“Caught in a dream that can’t come true at all, here I grew a flower that couldn’t blossom;” 

Evelynn was a _goddess_ on that stage.

Immaculate, dark. Breathtaking. Commanding all eyes to her –and Avarice found it impossible to look away after. Everything else melted away. There was only _her_ –the whole world narrowed down to the deep look in her eyes and the sound of her soul-stirring voice.

Fenrir practically missed all the parts where she _wasn’t_ singing.

Akali’s rap sequence came in and the refren shook the whole structure. The idols spread across the stage and leaned towards the audience at the ending lyrics. The rogue was usually the only one daring enough to descend, to sing so close to her fans and trust them not to rip her clothes –or her— apart. Her assassin skills had helped her slip out in certain concerts where the crowd had gone a bit too wild. But then…

 _Evelynn_ was the one to step off her pedestal, to Avarice’s level.

The fans nearly got a heart attack. A collective gasp came from their surroundings.

It was clear, between the two of them, that the siren was singing her last part for _her_. Avarice could only hope it _wasn’t_ as obvious to the rest of the world.

“Love you so bad, love you so _bad_ , a perfect illusion created for you; love you so mad, love you so mad, a beautiful doll in the image you drew…”

Kai’sa ended the song as she’d began it, with the added twist of singing the finale in _Shuriman_ , which absolutely killed everyone present. 

Avarice was pretty sure she’d died before that, though.

Evelynn smirked at her, a molten look that said ‘ _wait for me’_ , before walking backstage.

…

It took hours for them to be alone.

After the commotion persistent through her entire day, Avarice was deeply appreciative of the quiet of Evelynn’s mansion. The diva had taken her hand and led her to the back yard, illuminated in the natural glow of exotic, magic-absorbing flowers and the lights within the cool pool there. Ocean eyes eagerly took in the glittery shimmer of the petals around… but they had an unfair disadvantage against their owner, whose beauty was simply unrivalled. Otherworldly.

“Are you going to tell me now?” Avarice asked.

The diva did not speak for a while. Merely ran the back of her fingers up her arm, eyes twinkling at the shiver she could so effortlessly elicit out of the summoner. “Do you like this place?” she asked, gaze flitting around before it settled right back onto her, hot and insistent as ever.

A tiny line creased Fenrir’s brow. “Well… who wouldn’t?”

Evelynn’s lips curled in an unusual, small smile. “Good, because it will be yours one day. Soon.”

Avarice’s brain halted. “Uh… what…” she began saying, but the demoness shushed her with a finger to her lips. A finger that trailed down to her chin, wordlessly urging her closer.

“Avarice.” The mage couldn’t say why the sound of her own name falling from Evelynn’s lips, dispersing in the air between them, stunned her so. Perhaps the weight behind it was to blame. “Come closer. Hold me.”

Avarice fought down another blush. Gently, she eliminated the space between them, wrapped her arms around Evelynn’s waist, the way she so often denied she dreamed of doing. Long, slender fingers pushed through hers, twining together in a warm, comfortable grip. The nails of the champion’s free hand lightly danced at her nape. Avarice’s eyes nearly fell closed from the sensation.

“Why are you being like this since yesterday?” she asked, quietly, afraid to raise her voice and break the moment.

“You don’t like it?”

“You know I _do_ but…” Avarice trailed off.

“Darling, bond with me.” Evelynn said, continuing the lulling motions of her hand. “I want to know how this feels for you.”

It was an odd request, embarrassing only if Avarice allowed herself to think of the _other_ times when they had bonded outside the Institute until then. She understood though, how dark and empty it was to not feel a thing. Without her pendant, she felt like someone else. She _became_ someone else. Evelynn could only experience certain things through her. There was a stupid little spark of hope in chest, that monsters could be something better together.

Avarice, although tired, allowed the demoness access to a restricted, guarded, familiar part of her mind. She pushed back the innate instinct to close her emotions off, instead letting some flow. A taste of how _nice_ it was to be held by her. How much Avarice liked her concert, seeing her glow up on that stage. How beautiful her hair looked under the soft light of the garden.

Evelynn smiled. Leaned down to give her a hot little kiss that Avarice didn’t let her know brightened her entire world.

“I don’t know what the best way to tell you this is.” she whispered, holding her close. “But, Avarice. Surely you’ve noticed something wrong with me since you came back. Especially as the time progressed.”

A sharp chord of worry pulsed through her veins. It would be a lie to say she hadn’t noticed, at times, though waved it off in her head as another one of the demoness’ mood swings. Avarice frowned, deeply. “Well, I…” her voice died. Why was oxygen suddenly weighting her very lungs? “I don’t—”

“ _Look_ at me.” Evelynn commanded, gripping her a bit harder, as if to snap her out of her stupor.

Avarice almost didn’t want to. Because since the last time she’d seen her, the dark augur that was Evelynn’s essence had shrunk, waned, destabilized and she had no idea how that was even _possible_ , because someone’s being couldn’t just—

Dissipate. 

Ocean eyes went wide. She felt her body tense in the demoness’ hold.

“I’m _fading_ , Avarice.”

Dying. Evelynn may as well have said dying, with that finality to her voice.

The universe tilted. Fenrir felt the earth _quake_ without it truly moving at all.

_How._

How _?!_

 _Did you stop feeding on…— just go and kill more— no. No! What am I thinking?!_ The summoner battled against her own mind, self-loathing resurfacing from the mental pit she’d thrown it into, at her very thoughts. That she’d rather have more innocents suffer just so Evelynn would be alright. She couldn’t stand herself for it, but she would stand it, because she couldn’t stand to _lose_ her.

She _couldn’t_ , she _wasn’t_ that strong.

Meanwhile, it took every ounce of willpower she had to keep the floodgates shut, to not let Evelynn in on the hurricane in her mind, tearing everything apart.

But she was being torn apart. Piece by piece, all over again.

She was losing it _all_ , all over again.

“Tell me you’re lying—!” a cracked sound escaped her throat, torn between a growl and a sob.

Evelynn brought both hands up to frame the sides of her neck. At that point, it was the only thing keeping her steady. “Love. I can’t find enough energy to sustain my existence anymore. Even if I killed an entire village, an entire city –it wouldn’t do anything.” she spoke evenly, even as everything crumbled around Avarice. “I was born of _myriad_ screams during the Rune Wars. Only a catastrophe of that scale could save me.”

Just when Fenrir had built herself back up. She could practically _feel_ pieces falling from the sky, raining down like that dome had, in her own psyche.

But the _Runes_ —

_The Runes._

A terrible thought occurred to her, but Avarice shut her mind completely to keep it within.

“Don’t lock me out, darling.” Evelynn coaxed, pulling her into her arms, their foreheads pressed together. Avarice only then realized she was crying. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, without pause, without end, with enough intensity to scorch the skin underneath. Twin, burning lines.

The worst part –the part that _broke_ her— was that she had the power to save her.

All Avarice had to do was speak a location and let events take over from there. All she had to do was sacrifice the world for the woman she—

“Do you love me, Avarice?” Evelynn asked.

Five simple words that wrecked what little control she could maintain to dust, to ash, because, by the gods, she _did_. She _always_ had, since the diva came into her life. She never stopped. She would never stop loving her.

Her mental walls shook. Shattered. ‘ _I love you, I love you, I love you, don’t leave me,_ please _—’_ thoughts and words tumbled out of her hold. She knew Evelynn could hear.

_But I can’t—_

“I can’t save you.” she wailed in her arms.

Evelynn continued to peer down at her, beautiful as a sculpture. But in that moment, in that fleeting heartbeat, the fondness in her gaze turned to boundless cold.

“You _can_.” she said, deadly certain. _‘You just don’t want to’_ lingered like a shard of ice lodged into their bond. “Tell me where the Runes are.”

All warmth faded between them in an instant.

Avarice felt a crushing force, dark and all-encompassing, try to overpower her mind. She’d hid the information so deeply there was no way to get it out of her, she’d thought, but the demoness’ demand brought the subject to the forefront of her head.

And in her ocean of pain, of grief—

Evelynn _saw_.

Avarice shut their bond down, sharply and forcefully, but not in time. Her only option, she knew, was to make certain the diva could _not_ use the information she just violently extracted from her. But Evelynn knew that, too.

A burning knife penetrated Avarice through the back. Through the heart.

Ocean eyes glanced down at the bloody lasher tip protruding from her skin. It was a familiar suffering –physically, she knew that agony.

Emotionally… nothing in the galaxy could compare to it.

Nothing burned quite like betrayal.

Evelynn tore the blade out, supporting her weight gently as she fell. She cradled her in her arms as Avarice’s body went into shock, as the demoness’ words stopped making sense because nothing did.

“Forgive me, baby.” she cooed, dark lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “I promise this is the last time. Nothing will hurt you again.” Evelynn caressed her jaw as she pulled back, rising to her full height. “You will watch the world burn, safe by my side. For now, though, I need you to sleep.”

The sound of her heels drew far and distant.

Avarice chocked on her rage, on air, as she felt her grip on her body fracture once more. _I—_

_Trusted you._

_How_ could _you!_

Her nails dug into the ground. Drew parallel lines on it. She went to remove the pendant, her soul, to stop the onslaught of pain, but her hand burned with the Eternal Oath, unable to perform the action. She was trapped in a prison of her own making.

Black spots filled her vision. If she succumbed to unconsciousness, Avarice knew, there was nothing that would stop Evelynn in time. She had to fight through the torture, she had to let someone _know_. 

_I will stop you._ she vowed, clutching at her bleeding heart, broken in more ways than one.

 _I will_ stop _you!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So. I'm not saying I'm starting to like Vayne... but I'm also not not saying it :p. She respected Avarice a great deal before she found out about her so that's why she reacts the way she does here. Onto the concert, the song K/DA are singing is BTS-Fake Love. I thought the lyrics really matched the vibe I wanted and it is K-pop, so yeah. 
> 
> No words about the angst, other than it hurts me as much as it hurts you. :( It was an incredibly powerful scene and I re-wrote it like 5 times until I was even remotely satisfied with how it played out. Would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it. 
> 
> EDIT: (If you're curious as to why Avarice can't remove her pendant, read back to the chapter where they sealed their Eternal Oath. Evelynn's condition is that she cannot take it off under any circumstances.) 
> 
> Stay cool, stay beautiful and see you next week ;)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do NOT own this fanart of Eve -only edited it to make her look the way I describe in this chapter. ALL rights go to the original artist!

**[Avarice]**

She was in _agony_.

Every minuscule muscle movement was its own form of torture. Avarice grit her teeth against the ever-rising panic and nausea. _I’m not dying. I’m not fucking dying._ She repeated in her head like a mantra, desperately struggling to convince her mind to keep going, keep fighting, to stop trying to protect itself by shutting down.

The whole world was on the line because of her. She could not afford the bliss of surrendering to unconsciousness –and she did not deserve it.

Avarice chocked on air as she dragged her hand, inch by burning inch, closer to her jacket’s pocket. _I have to let them know._ Her vision was filled with black dots, snapping from her true sight to a regular wavelength in a sickening loop. She wasn’t even sure she could pick up her phone with how badly she was shaking.

By some miracle caused by her fumbling, the device slipped out of its prison. Fenrir barely had the wits about her to unlock the screen. As soon as her contacts came up, she pressed the first name on the list. Prayed to every higher being in existence that they answered quickly.

 _“Hey Avarice, what’s up?”_ Akali’s voice came from the other end.

“Akali— help!” was the only thing she managed to croak out, a wonder that she was capable of coherent speech at all.

A sharp inhale— and the rogue’s casual tone turned deadly. _“Tell me where you are.”_

 _“Isn’t Evelynn with her?!”_ Kai’sa’s voice reached her ears, faint in the background.

“No! Go after Eve...!” the summoner gasped through another wave of raw fire across her lungs. Every word was a nuke going off within her sternum. She didn’t know how long she could endure it. “Go _after_ her, _please_ , don’t let her get to the Rune—!” That one seemed about as much as she could handle. The world spun;

Soon, pain swallowed her whole.

Everything faded to black.

…

Minutes passed, or it could have been hours.

Avarice was distantly aware of her surroundings, like living in a feverish dream. There was still a part of her that refused to crumble, even though her body had already given up. That one part of her which, through endless torture, day and night, had remained unbroken.

An intense magical pull registered in the forefront of her brain. Blue eyes blinked open through too-heavy eyelids. It took a moment for them to focus on the purple swirl ahead, raw arcane that sent the flower petals around drifting, dancing hypnotically. Then it died down, leaving a very familiar presence in its wake.

Ryze.

The archmage’s lips turned down, in pity or sadness or both, as he came to crouch near her. Something in his pained gaze said _‘I’m sorry’_. Another, _‘I told you so’_.

“…Did she do this to you?” he asked. Both of them knew it was unnecessary. The answer was plain to see.

“How are you here?” Avarice asked back.

“Akali called me. She was terrified for you.” Ryze replied.

But then, Avarice was terrified for _her_. A thousand what-ifs flashed through her strained mind. What if she and Kai’sa could not take Evelynn out, or even stall her, by themselves? What if she stabbed them, too, in a way that, unlike with her, would be permanent? At that point, she wouldn’t put anything past the demoness. She shouldn’t have, in the first place.

Fenrir grit her teeth and tried to push herself up on her elbows.

Every cell inside her screamed.

 _But you’re no stranger to suffering._ she told herself.

Her phantom battleaxe formed in her grasp, helping her stand. Supporting her at her weakest as a weapon, as the person it had once been had done in life. Avarice gripped the energy-made handle tight as she attempted to rise. Will alone carried her forward. _Fight. Fight!_ she urged. She had never taken agony lying down. And the only good thing about all of it was –her mind was gradually being made to _adapt_.

“Listen to me.” Speech came a tad easier. Her fist clenched at the hole in her chest, more red rivulets leaking across her white-knuckled fist. “ _Don’t_ ask me how I know this.” she began. “But there is a… substantial Rune Fragment… buried at the mountain southwest of Zaun.”

Ryze’s eyes flew wide.

“Evelynn _knows_.” she continued. “We _cannot_ let her get to it.”

“Show me.” the archmage said, extending his hand.

Avarice couldn’t find it in her broken heart to trust him with a full-on summoning bond. She focused her energy in the faintest hint of one, barely the start of the link, keeping him locked behind a thousand mental shields. She projected that single location between their minds –and then terminated their connection with a clinical cut.

Ryze understood why. He always had been too darn perceptive. “I wouldn’t violate your mind like that.” he said, like swearing an oath. “You can trust me, Avarice. You could never trust _her_.”

“Take me there.” she demanded.

“The teleportation will put an immense amount of strain on your body—”

“ _Ryze_.” she growled. “ _Take_ me there.”

**[Evelynn]**

It was unbelievable, how she’d managed it.

How she called _them_ , through the shock of a skewered heart. Evelynn made a terrible mistake, underestimating her. Avarice had always looked too prettily soft for how incredibly fucking stubborn she could be. The demoness stabbed her… and Fenrir made sure to indirectly stab her back.

Three infuriating obstacles blocked her only path to survival.

Akali stood there not as her bandmate, but as every bit the assassin she had been raised to be. Every muscle tense; coiled like a spring ready to snap. Her eyes radiated fury cold enough to conceal the acute pain Evelynn could taste from her emotions. Kai’sa’s chest was heaving through her suit, which had spread across her whole body, risen to cover even her face. If she was attempting to hide her bitterness behind her void-mask, it wasn’t working. And finally…

Ahri.

How interesting, that her eyes finally matched what she truly was. A being much like herself –born a murderer. Yellow to yellow, two monsters staring each other down. Perhaps how it was always meant to be.

“Trust me, team.” Evelynn pinned them with a deadly glare. Shadows blossomed around her. “You _don’t_ want to be in my way right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Ahri said, magic flaring just like her tails. “I’m _not_ going to let you do this.”

“Oh, well, fine. Be a bitch.” Evelynn huffed. The next moment she was shrouded in her camouflage, prowling across the darkness, twin blades poised for the strike. “A dead one!” she hissed, going for Ahri’s exposed side—

But her lashers collided with impenetrable hardness. Kai’sa had gotten between them, the void blasters on her arms used as a shield. Evelynn snarled and shoved her out the way, blocked Akali’s downward slash with a dark tendril before phasing back, out of Ahri’s spirit orb. There was the faintest pause;

And then they were all coming at her at the same time.

Kai’sa’s missiles rained down on her –and Evelynn was too weak to summon her full speed and avoid them all. She didn’t feel the burn as they scorched her demon form’s skin –but she did feel the dizzying drain as her body was forced to regenerate. It wasn’t given the time to. Akali was a shadow zooming behind her, getting two cuts across her back and neck that Evelynn barely kept from being too deep. Then Ahri leapt onto her, nails made into claws that went straight for her _head_ –

Evelynn summoned her mana in a burst, using her _last caress_ to escape.

Her landing wasn’t as graceful as she would have liked.

The world _tilted_. She collapsed on one knee.

_Fuck._

Slitted eyes turned to the smoke-like wounds on her body. She wasn’t surprised they weren’t healing. She wasn’t surprised she was falling apart –and there was some great irony there that it had to be before her team.

A hollow, venomous laugh escaped Evelynn. “You’ve always wanted to do that, you _skank_.” she said to the fox.

Ahri’s side and biceps were quickly turning red from where her lashers had cut her. Such a wonderful sight… that Evelynn never would have thought she’d have to force herself to appreciate.

“Only every time you opened your mouth, you _slut_.” the nine-tailed fox panted. Acidic rage colored her normally silvery voice, yet there was also something else, underneath. A timbre torn, like the rest of them.

Kai’sa approached to steady her as she wobbled, worry etched across her motions.

Akali hadn’t taken her gaze off the demoness. Which, really, was the smart thing to do, because…

Evelynn _shot_ forward.

Grabbed the rogue by the throat, before she could bring her kamas up to defend herself. Claws cut a precise line across her neck and thigh before Kai’sa was onto her with two powerful punches. Evelynn blocked the first, tanked the second and used another burst of pure dark force to _smash_ her onto the ground like a mosquito.

She knew her weakness –she knew _all_ their weaknesses.

Nothing could penetrate Kai’sa’s exo-skin… but she felt _everything_. Underneath that voidling’s protection, her bones were still very much human. Evelynn was certain the power she put into that smackdown cracked at _least_ a couple of ribs. Kai’sa fought to stand back up.

She really shouldn’t.

For a moment, Evelynn wanted to tell her to stop being stupid, because one of her lungs could’ve been injured. She could be causing herself permanent damage –and for what? She wanted to tell Akali to stop trying to move, because she would bleed to _death_.

 _And why does it matter?_ She wondered.

It didn’t matter.

…did it?

“Stay the fuck down already!” Evelynn snapped. “It’s not like you have what it takes to stop me without killing me —and you _can’t_ kill me. All _three_ of you sentimental idiots had the chance!” she growled. And it was true. They could have won, had they not been weighted down by their useless emotions.

Really, it was disgusting how much they cared about her.

She broke Kai’sa’s ribs. She cut Akali and Ahri like filleting a fish. And yet… they couldn’t even bring themselves to hate her. Instead, their hearts cried out for some miracle that things could go back to _normal_. 

“Didn’t you?” Akali croaked out, her hand firmly wrapped around her own neck to lessen the bleeding. Crimson slipped down her wrist, past her elbow, dripping onto the soil beneath her feet.

Evelynn paused.

Chose not to linger on the question, in adamant denial of the answer.

“You can’t even decide between watching me die and watching a few hundred thousands die.” she stated. “Neither could she.”

Avarice had made the moral choice to hide the Rune’s location from her because she wouldn’t be able to live with herself afterwards, but Evelynn had sensed it, beneath the sting of betrayal, she was _relieved_. Love did not exactly adhere to morals. Or to reason.

And they, too, loved her. Each in their own way.

“I’m saving you from that decision.” Evelynn said. “And since we’re here, I’m not the one you should be stopping, anyway.”

Gold eyes peered past the fallen champions, towards the peak of the mountain. Where the cult’s Leader had finished all his preparations… and the shard of the World Rune was already being called to the surface. After eons of slumber within rocks and soil…

The earth shook.

Her teammates looked between themselves with fearful eyes.

Far behind them, the very fabric of space was bending to accommodate the rising, ungodly force. The mountain cracked like an egg. Giant pieces crumbled to dust, until a massive cliffside had been created out of nowhere. Beneath it was a sea, black as tar. And there, from where the ground had split, glowed a magenta Rune fragment the size of a grown person. Considering the tiny pieces the almighty crystals were said to have shattered into… Evelynn never would have believed such a thing existed still.

And the sheer _power_ emanating from it—

It was like staring at a _god_.

Evelynn’s eyes dropped back down to her former team. “You are too late.”

…

The edges of her body began to dissipate in the wind.

The demoness gathered all her willpower into one final dash.

The Rune called like a beacon in the deep of the night, a glow beyond awe-inspiring. Majestic. It was so incredibly _close_ Evelynn could almost _taste_ it—

But a portal violently tore the space between her and her salvation.

A mystical blue light leapt out of it, a familiar touch pressing against her sternum. Time slowed in the millisecond she caught Avarice’s iridescent eyes, piercing and glacial in their determination not to let her pass. The marks of her lich form lit up –and a crushing, chilling _smite_ ran Evelynn through.

Claws and lashers dug into the ground to keep herself rooted near the Rune. The frozen, gaping hole at her chest filled with shadows that lacked the mana to solidify. Half of Evelynn was corporeal, the other half a wavering ghost. Half dead and half alive.

Always half.

She grit her fangs. Looked up. She would have expected malice or glee to shimmer in Avarice’s gaze for the payback… but certainly not tears. Salty water welled up across the girl’s pretty lower lids. Overflowed on one side, rolling down her cheek like a shooting star. Her lips were but a thin line.

Ryze went straight for the cult Leader, trusting Fenrir to keep her contained. The demoness watched from the corner of her eye as arcane explosions went off, both mages battling for control over the Rune. The noise of their clashing spells was deafening.

Evelynn rebuilt what little of herself she could. _I’ve come too far to give up here._ Avarice readied her spectral chain, drew back her arm holding her straightsword.

“There’s only one way to stop me, darling.” she hissed. Rushed forward.

Claws met chains. Lashers tasted the sharpness of that magic-crafted blade mid-air. Evelynn struck without pause, but Avarice blocked everything. Every subtle shift she made was answered at the same exact time— and for a moment it was like they were back on the Rift, mirroring the other’s movements to perfection. But they were not fighting together, that time. One’s victory would be the other’s defeat.

Avarice’s smite wasn’t Evelynn’s strength anymore. Rather, it took it away. Evelynn’s darkness wasn’t the summoner’s protective shroud. It was the thing trying to choke her. Both of them howled as they brought their weapons down on the other. Again, a perfect stalemate, when it shouldn’t be. The demoness should still be _faster_.

Evelynn understood, then, why her team could not end her.

She couldn’t bring herself to kill Avarice, either.

…But she could still hurt her enough to put her out of the fight. The Agony’s Embrace retracted her arm— and let the summoner’s sword pierce her. She could feel herself waning further, but she couldn’t feel the pain. It was her one advantage that she abused, by bringing her shoulder powerfully into the girl’s chest. Fenrir gasped. Coughed up blood. Staggered several feet back before she collapsed on her knees.

Evelynn thought she’d won—

But then she cried out.

A sharp, burning spike had embedded itself in her lower back. The demoness hauled it out and stared wide-eyed at the object –a single silver bolt. She rolled away before the next ones could find their mark. Looking over her shoulder at the figure advancing through the darkness, Evelynn bared her teeth. 

“I will rip out your spine and _feed_ it to you, _Vayne_!” she shrieked, going straight for the Night Hunter’s neck.

Rip. Shot. Tear. Tumble. The two of them fell on each other like a tornado meeting a wildfire. Evelynn took great pleasure in the moments her claws caught the human’s skin, pushed through it like butter, but it was quickly diminished by every slash of silver landing on her own shadow-flesh.

It became apparent in her current state she wouldn’t last long against another champion. And the second Ryze turned his attention to her, it would all be _over_.

Evelynn tore Vayne’s night-vision googles away from her face with a cruel, downwards swipe. Beads of blood flew in the air between them. Her lasher then caught in the soil, guiding a plume of dust straight into the hunter’s exposed eyes.

She turned; eyes set on the Rune. Coiled her body into another blink—

Fenrir, knowing she couldn’t get in her way, did the only thing she could to stop her. Summoned another _smite_ spell in her hand… and attacked the very _Rune_.

A giant energy wave levelled the mountaintop.

Both of them were sent flying on opposite sides of the massive crystal.

Avarice caught herself with one hand at the edge of the rift.

Evelynn gasped out as her back crashed onto some nearby rocks. Her thoughts started to blur, her vision to crack. She couldn’t summon the strength to pull herself back up. Vayne was advancing towards her –and she realized it was over. Accepted it. Regretted only the fact hers would be the last face she’d see before she evaporated to nothingness.

Yet the Night Hunter did not stop. She kept going, boots dragging against the broken earth until she towered over the edge of the cliff. Her hand shot forward and grabbed Avarice’s, pulling her up, yet not all the way.

Evelynn had not panicked at the prospect of death.

But she panicked, then.

“Leave her out of this, Shauna!” she said through gritted teeth. “This is between you and me, about what happened to mommy and daddy.” she forced herself to laugh. Anything, to make the other champion turn to _her_. “I know you so desperately want to put all the blame on me –but you _know_ , don’t you? I _can’t_ get into someone’s property without an invitation.” she spoke, letting the weight of her words sink in.

“ _Shut_ up!” Vayne hissed, eyes wide, mad, as they turned to her.

“Your father _eagerly_ invited me in, hon. The man was so _sick_ of his life with his perfect little family that bored him to tears.” Evelynn continued, pouring salt into the forever-open wound. “He so badly wanted to cheat on mommy and forget his whiny little brat existed for a while. Practically _begged_ for it.”

Vayne’s lip curled. She bit the corner of her mouth so hard it bled. “Ever since I returned home to the sight of my parents _gutted,_ I wanted to make you feel what it was like to lose everything –and it was impossible.” she said, pulling Avarice up further. “But, you _fucking_ bitch, you’re going to feel _this_.”

Vayne let go of Avarice’s hand –and _pushed_.

Evelynn felt a scream tear itself out of her throat.

She’d felt pain before, of course. She knew what it was like. So, she knew what she experienced in that moment wasn’t it.

Because watching Avarice fall into the monstrous darkness below— was _agonizing_.

**[Avarice]**

Black.

Suffocating.

Avarice had been in that tar sea before. In her dreams, where it felt like she was drowning, endlessly. Sinking, without ever reaching the bottom. The water was less liquid and more tendrils of pure corruption wrapping themselves around her, coiling into her from every pore. Hijacking her very essence. Something spoke in the back of her brain, in a language her mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend—

The very sound was driving her _insane_.

And then… something stirred.

A _massive_ yellow eye opened beneath her. Stared, through her very soul.

Avarice, in stark horror, realized what was happening. Why it felt like that black thing around her was trying to push through her head. It wanted a better form to walk upon the earth –and from the beginning, it had chosen hers. Her body was made immortal, her soul extracted from it, so it would be an empty husk for that _terror_ to settle in, by the time it was all said and done. Its perfectly preserved vessel.

Ocean eyes looked down at the pendant floating before her chest. The eye followed its motions… and a thousand more opened, around it. A single crack formed on the phylactery hosting her life.

Only the magic that granted her immortality could take it away –that being’s magic.

Avarice wanted to scream, but no sound came out her throat in the darkness.

Until magenta claws closed around the blue crystal, preventing any further damage to it. Pulled her back, into familiar arms. Fenrir turned to see Evelynn there, shock painted across her gorgeous features as she stared at the endless eyes, so similar to her own.

Avarice accepted they were going to die.

So, she reached for her one last time.

And when Evelynn turned to her, in their bond, she _saw_.

Everything the Leader had revealed to her about what she truly was, who she was. That monster beneath them was what created her as a last, subconscious resort to resurrect it –and in a way, it was the piece of her missing. It found Avarice’s form appealing to take, because _she_ had found it appealing from the beginning. And she had found it appealing because that horror had always known Avarice could one day possess the sight it needed to take over the mortal realm. 

Evelynn and that monster were supposed to be one and the same, focused solely on their survival, wanting to drown the world in an era of unending agony so they could reign supreme, bigger than any god.

 _‘That’s –that’s not what I am. That_ can’t _be what I_ am _.’_ Yet Evelynn was appalled by the horrific sight of it, repeating the words in her mind so powerfully they echoed in Avarice’s.

Something opened beneath the ginormous pupil at their feet and the pair could make out trillions of tiny teeth sucking everything into an abyss from which there was no escape.

Evelynn would become one with the terror by being consumed –and Avarice would be taken over, worn as a sleeve for that thing to walk the plane of mortals. There was no surviving that, so the summoner thought there was no room for pride in their final moments.

Her fingers closed around Evelynn’s, still grasping her pendant to shield it from the crushing force around them. _‘I don’t know what you are.’_ she thought back. _‘But this is what you are to me.’_

And so Avarice showed her. From the very first moment the diva had come up to her outside that rookie arena, how absolutely _radiant_ she’d always been to her eyes. The most beautiful woman in the room, in the world, in her life. What her touch had always been like, fire and comfort and protection. How Avarice’s heart beat faster every time she came near, then skipped beats every time she threw her head back and laughed, dimples showing, gorgeous, divine. She showed her how she adored the sound of her deep voice, the amber of her eyes, the magenta of her silken strands of hair, somehow styled to perfection even in the midst of battle.

The thought of Evelynn had kept her spirit unbroken through the cult’s rituals.

And yes, when she found out about her true nature she’d feared her. Despised the things she drew pleasure from. But did the demoness ever really have another choice? Suffering was all she’d known from the beginning. It was what sustained her. And as Avarice peered into people’s hearts, she realized they were not all that different from monsters in the things they were willing to do for their goals. For their survival.

Somewhere between all their rivalry-turned-dysfunctional-relationship, Avarice realized she could smile a little less forced. Breathe easier. She started to appreciate things she didn’t think she’d care for again. Started wanting to rebuild. To _live_. 

Evelynn was darkness, had always been darkness, but she had also become Avarice’s light.

And despite the past day, the broken heart and broken trust, Avarice understood. She loved her, regardless.

Evelynn stared at her, speechless.

 _‘My darling. I’m sorry about everything.’_

Avarice smiled. The gaping abyss had almost pulled them in.

Then snapshots of memories came to her mind. Perhaps that was what people meant that, at the end of one’s journey, the movie of their lives played before them.

 _“Have you ever heard of a_ perfect _summoning bond?”_ her teammates had asked, a lifetime ago.

 _“Maybe the reason you can’t find anything specific is because it’s not meant to be specific. Maybe the rush of sheer power they describe is not meant to be, at all.”_ Akali’s voice followed.

 _“Just a piece of advice, Fenrir; don’t underestimate the power of a perfect summoning bond. Some say it bends even the laws of our world.”_ Helena had said, with that gleam in her eye. Avarice was only then starting to wonder whether she wasn’t actually exaggerating when she said “ _Makes Champions powerful as_ gods _.”_

And finally, that quote from the previous High Summoner Akali had recited; _“‘Do not obsess over how it should be. Out of your vulnerabilities will come your greatest strength.’”_

Her skin had grown cold, too cold, but Avarice turned to her champion. A spark of understanding flashed between them. And suddenly, there were no barriers, no secrets or words left unsaid.

_My eyes are your eyes. My heart is your heart. My blades are your blades._

“There is one thing about me you don’t know.” They spoke in unison, at the thing eating them whole.

The darkness could no longer silence their voice.

“Fenrir is a _godeater._ ”

…

Avarice was falling.

The ground was rising up to meet her too fast. Instinct kicked in; her energy was forced into a barrier that popped the second she collided with the earth, leaving her dazed, but otherwise unharmed.

The summoner blinked.

Five pairs of eyes were staring at her in shock, while another –the cult Leader’s— was firmly fixed on the sky, where she had fallen from. Avarice was deeply confused for a moment. She had dropped off the cliff to the sea below… but then fell again, only to find herself at the top, with the others, once more.

She turned around. The black tar was no longer at the bottom of the rift. Then her eyes peered upwards. And it was _there_ , covering the mountaintop in a sort of black, liquid cloud. It pulsed and gathered itself into a sphere, which soon descended upon the earth like a meteor.

Ryze moved to teleport her away, but Avarice raised her arm, urging everyone to wait.

The whole mountain rumbled as the goo crashed onto the World Rune fragment. Rocks and soil scattered everywhere. The shattering sound that followed echoed across time and space.

The darkness began to shrink. Pooled into a circle. Tendrils reached up and bonded together to gradually birth... a kneeled demon.

Pitch-black, plated armor graced its right side. Its left stood bare, save for dark and white tattoos woven across its skin.

 _Her_ skin.

Four horns adorned the demoness’ platinum-blonde head like a crown, while the Rune’s energy crackled madly in the air around her. Sparks of its magenta light ran up the armored parts of her godly form, slowly rising to its full height. Behind her, _six_ lashers coiled out of the shadows’ remains. Sharpened into electric-charged, jagged tips.

Avarice waited. The eyes that opened to peer at her were unmistakable.

_Evelynn._

The cult Leader ran to the risen god, in joy and absolute reverence—

And in one swift sweep of all those blades, he was less than bloody pieces on the ground. Her heel came onto his mask, which Avarice realized had been his phylactery all along. Smashed it, as easily as stepping on weak glass. One motion of claws; and the pile of gore burned away like it had never existed.

 _That’s one way to settle a score._ Avarice thought. 

She could sense Ryze’s cold terror behind her, born from the knowledge he could not stop the being just unleashed from its seals. The demon that absorbed a Rune into its being and made it its source of power. The entity that devoured a _god_.

She approached in even, calculated steps.

The champions behind Avarice froze.

The demoness reached her, yellow eyes sweeping across her body. Then that piercing gaze turned on Vayne, lashers rising in preparation to rip her to shreds—

“Evelynn.” Avarice said. She positioned her body between her and the Night Hunter. “That’s enough.” Cold gold fixed on her, as if to say ‘ _is it though’_.

Avarice reached to the pendant around her neck, sporting a single, tiny crack at the middle, an eternal reminder of what transpired that night. What they survived together. She pulled it off in one brave motion.

Offered it to Evelynn as a tribute.

Ryze gasped.

“As promised. My soul is yours to do as you please with it.” she spoke, unafraid. “But please, no more bloodshed for tonight.”

Evelynn’s gaze softened.

Clawed fingers closed around her hand like touching glass, something frail and too-precious. She leaned down… and black lips made soft contact with the navy crystal. The phylactery was gently pushed back to her chest. Held there like a promise.

“You’ve already given me everything, Avarice.” Her voice sounded different. Darker, like thunder booming over stormy skies. But it was still _her_ voice. 

“Come back home with me.” the summoner said, all too aware of the fact the League’s binding no longer worked on the reborn being before her. She could go on any rampage she wished without any restrictions…

“And have them bind all this _power_ away from me?” Evelynn asked, a hint of anger coating her tone. “I feel like a _god_. Why would I go back there, to be summoned by idiots and told what to do?”

“You won’t be doing it for them.” Avarice stated. _You’d be doing it for me._

Evelynn scowled –and the night itself seemed to mirror her mood. She looked away. Pinched the bridge of her nose. “Of _course_ you make it so my first real emotion, that’s all my own, is _frustration_.” her voice slowly lost its godly echo. On the next annoyed exhale, the armor, horns and markings all faded away to her human form, more gorgeous than ever before.

Avarice smiled at her.

“I’m going to regret this for the rest of my eternity. And it will be _your_ fault.” she pointed an accusing finger between them.

Everybody stood numb in a circle, unsure of what to think or how to look upon the demoness, as Ryze teleported them back to the Institute.

…

It took the Council a full day to bind Evelynn to the League once more.

An entire _week_ to calibrate her allowed power levels to that of the other champions, so she was balanced in the Fields of Justice. And of course, nobody was allowed to see her until then. Apparently, it was too ‘ _unsafe’_.

As if that word meant absolutely anything after what they went through, up on that mountain.

But finally, _finally_ …

Avarice was pacing up and down at the yard, eyes flitting from her watch to the stairs ahead. Every minute dragged on too long until she could speak to Evelynn again. It was a small mercy from the gods when the pull of her presence finally registered across her inhuman senses. The summoner turned, eyes eager as they locked with an approaching, golden pair.

Evelynn walked beside the High Summoner to a certain point, but descended the stairs to greet her by herself. Aquillas’ light blue eyes crinkled as they settled on Avarice, giving a knowing, proud nod.

Fenrir hesitated before the champion, unsure of whether to embrace her like she so badly wanted, or not.

Evelynn didn’t seem to have any doubts, nor care about who was watching, as she quickly pulled her in by the nape. Avarice was immensely relieved to realize she smelled the same, _felt_ the same, despite the ascension to something far greater than a lich could simply kiss. Raw, arcane power crackled somewhere in the depths of her being still, but it was made clear it was no threat to Avarice as Evelynn’s arms possessively cradled her shoulders, lips moving hotly over her own. 

The summoner blushed and broke away, just a tad, when the demoness licked her. “Eve, we have an audience.” she whispered.

Lidded lava met dark oceans. Evelynn’s curled finger trailed over her chin. Her slow smile held the beauty of a thousand sunsets. “This _feels_ … so _good_.” she breathed, a tiny gasp hidden there, sounding downright _elated_. “I can’t believe they kept this from me for a week.” Avarice went to turn away before her face could grow any hotter, but those heavenly arms tightened around her. Sought hers, only to pull them flush against her stomach. “You are not allowed to stop touching me, darling.”

“After everything I survived, this is how I die. Of embarrassment.” Avarice dropped her flaming face to Evelynn’s shoulder. Looking over it, she realized the High Summoner had excused himself to give them privacy.

But they were not alone for long.

Three familiar auras approached from the side. Evelynn didn’t let go of her as she turned towards them, yet her hand tightened at her nape, almost reflexively. Avarice’s gaze fell to the rest of K/DA, standing there as awkwardly as she had, moments ago.

Akali took it upon herself to break the tense silence. “So.” she huffed. Evelynn’s eyes dropped to the bandages around her neck. “We were filled in on some crucial details. And yeah, apparently our old bandmate’s devoured a primordial god and absorbed a Rune shard, so we came to check if everything’s cool.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “…everything good?”

Evelynn opened her mouth to speak, but Ahri beat her to it. “How do we even know it’s still _you_ in there?” Her voice was sharp enough to cut metal. She looked _pissed_ and it was a scary sight.

Evelynn’s lip quirked into her characteristic smirk. “Well. Akali could live off of spicy ramyun alone, Kai’sa survived a small eternity in the void but wouldn’t survive ten minutes in a room with a cockroach…” A dramatic pause. “And Ahri. You’re a bitch.”

The group exchanged a look.

“Yeah, it’s Evelynn.” they agreed simultaneously.

“I was hoping that thing saved me from your dreadful existence but no such luck.” Ahri deadpanned. “A creaking door hangs long.”

“Your ‘welcome back’ speech could make me tear up.” Evelynn pretended to blink away tears.

“It’s my ‘go away forever’ speech.”

“Equally terrible as the rest of them.”

They held the other’s narrowed gaze until Kai’sa stepped forward. “What she means is, lunch at K/DA’s place?”

“That’s not what I—” Akali covered Ahri’s mouth and looked at Evelynn expectantly.

“Don’t let Ahri near the kitchen and we have an agreement.”

As they all made their way out of the League together, the sun shining down on them and the tension in the group gradually slipping away, Avarice smiled to herself. It was a long road after dusk. And although it would take a while longer to get there…

Dawn was finally breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our heroines managed what had only been rumored so far, a Perfect Summoning Bond, to its fullest potential. Rather than Avarice's magic acting as an equalizer to Evelynn's, a perfect summoning is essentially a single moment where they align so completely -they see the world through the other's eyes- the summoner's strength becomes a *multiplier* for the champion. Thanks to Avarice, Evelynn devoured a god rather than being swallowed whole (her new form is the picture at the very top of the chapter). And yet for Avarice, she returned to the League, let herself be re-bound, so they could be together. If giving up godhood to be with your girl isn't real love I don't know what is ;)
> 
> And here is our Grand Finale everybody :). The story concludes in this chapter, the next one will just be a wind-down 'extra', featuring the aftermath. Perhaps a much-needed vacation between these two. Thank you all so much for following this fic to the end and for your continued support every chapter. You're awesome! :) 
> 
> Next Fic I'm already working on will be Cassiopeia x OC (her name will be Triana), about the same length as this one, with its own load of angst, pining and drama. (Also I'm just rly looking for an excuse to write from Katarina's pov again lol). If it's something you may be interested in, the first two chapters will be out next week, along with this story's last update. 
> 
> P.S: Mikazucchi, you made me read Elise's amazing lore and fall for her too goddamn it. Now all I can think is 'Spider Queen Hawt'. And her voiceeeee is sex. I stan a queen.


	21. Extra

**[Avarice]**

Finally.

Who would have thought that after the battle Avarice survived, moving all of her stuff to the Challenger dorm would be a war of its own. Yet it took her an entire day to get everything set up in her luxurious new room, even with Warwick’s help. Of _course,_ Evelynn had come to steal a quick kiss sometime during her struggle, but didn’t lift a _single_ box.

Avarice let out a huff and dropped back to her queen-sized bed. The mattress was perfect, not too soft and not too hard, welcoming her in its embrace. It was a lifetime ago that she’d lived there, a memory so distant it seemed like a dream. Everything felt new and unfamiliar. Acclimating to the new space would definitely take a while.

And the glares from most of its inhabitants.

She was _not_ looking forward to the elite summoners’ endless load of drama and power games.

_Not this crap again…_

A knock on her open door made Avarice sit up. She hadn’t been expecting any welcoming neighbors in the frosty Challenger atmosphere, but even if she had she wouldn’t anticipate the _top_ among them. Yet Helena was there, casually leaning against her doorframe in all her unearthly composure, not a single hair out of place. Her icy eyes, the intimidating shimmer of the Frostguard, peered into her own like they’d been awaiting the chance to talk again, on equal ground. 

“Hey, Challenger.” she greeted, the barest hint of a smirk in her voice, though not her face.

“Helena.” Avarice said. “How did you know?”

“About?”

“Don’t play dumb. The advice you gave me. How did you know I’d need it?” she asked.

Helena made a small ‘ah’ sound. “I didn’t know. Lissandra said to tell you.” A shrug. “Her visions have not been wrong. And I learned a while ago not to ask.”

“And what does the Ice Witch get out of helping me?”

The Frostguard took a few careful, poised steps into her room, gazing about. “You see, the thing with Lissandra is, nobody knows why she does the things she does but herself. Perhaps it’s better that way, too.” she spoke. “She sees a _much_ bigger picture than most.”

“This picture involves you and I?” Avarice asked.

“You and Evelynn. Lissandra and I.” Helena replied. Stood pensive for a moment. Then, “There are others, but they aren’t nearly ready yet. The conditions haven’t been met. But we are all there for what is to come –for the dark days that are approaching.”

Avarice’s fingers tensed in her lap. She didn’t want to believe it, not after the dread she experienced that she wanted to leave worlds behind her. Yet the nagging feeling to be strong and _prepared_ hadn’t gone away after the primordial god’s defeat.

But what could be worse than an all-powerful entity trying to guide the world into an era of agony?

…Fenrir wasn’t certain she wanted the answer to that question.

“That’s why you keep an eye on rising summoners.” Avarice realized. “Who are the others?”

“One of them you’ve already met, but her fated champion isn’t even _bound_ to the League yet.” Helena said. “Lissandra was too vague –nothing new there— about the whole thing.”

Avarice shook her head. “Any _good_ news?”

“Yes, actually.” Helena’s lip curled into a fatal smirk. “My team is short on a jungler at the moment.”

Ocean eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is it really?”

“No.” The other Challenger chuckled. “But it can be. Only the best are good enough, after all.” Her even footsteps made towards the door. Paused at the threshold for another heartbeat. “Think about it.” The offer was thrown over her shoulder along with a cool wave. Then, she was gone like a phantom.

Avarice slapped her hand over her face. Once again, there was _too_ much to think about. 

No rest for the wicked.

...

Lidded, ravenous eyes stared at the Challenger brooch on her chest in stark appreciation.

“It looks so good on you.” Evelynn _had_ to emphasise the word with a tiny moan.

“It’s just a pin, Eve.” Avarice managed to say through her flush.

“But it looks _so_ good on you.” Full lips slid into a smirk, all liquid heat, getting _well_ into her personal space. Everything about her was so darn distracting Avarice forgot what she was supposed to be doing out in the massive yard.

“Behave…” came out as a weak complaint.

If Fenrir thought the demoness’ flirting had been intense before, then words couldn’t describe how the diva acted with her after gaining the ability to feel. Avarice was worried the blush on her face would be stuck there forever. She had long since given up on trying to appear simply as close partners to any potential onlookers. Unless it was professional to regularly be seen with her champion’s tongue in her mouth. In that case, yes, they were very professional. 

Evelynn ran a nail up her neck. Fenrir valiantly fought the urge to shiver and glared, instead. _We’re in public, goddamn it._

Then an equally manicured hand grabbed her shoulder, cold where the diva’s touch was hot. It carefully pulled her back, saving her from the demoness’ sexy clutches and giving her the ability to _think_ , absent hormones, once again.

“I’m borrowing her for a while.” a smooth, low voice said from behind her and Avarice’s muscles tensed at the sound. She whipped her head around to see Elise standing there in all her black-clad glory, eyes red as wine –as _blood_ – firmly fixed on Evelynn. A secretive smirk played at the corner of her sensual mouth.

Fenrir wondered if all attractiveness in the world eventually found itself within the League, because there was no other logical explanation as to why nearly every champion looked like sex on legs. Despite the appeal, though, she couldn’t say she was exactly comfortable between two seductresses staring each other down.

“No.”

“My summoner got banned before the game and you owe me.” Elise said.

“Still no –wait. Isn’t Ahri on the enemy team?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Avarice looked at the two champions.

“No.” they replied at the same time.

“ _But_.” Evelynn glared daggers. “No touching. No flirting. No corrupting. No otherwise funny business –those are mine to do alone.” Elise rolled her eyes. “And you’re already breaking rule one.” Amber orbs fell to the hand still on her shoulder in warning.

Elise chose to play with fire when, instead of simply letting her hand fall to her side, she lightly trailed her fingers down Avarice’s sleeve. If looks could kill, she’d be dead a thousand times over. The Spider Queen simply chuckled and turned around, tugging the summoner along.

“She agreed so quickly.” Fenrir commented as they walked towards one of the fancier arenas.

“The prospect of tilting Ahri does wonders.” Elise spoke.

“…We’re not actually going to camp her though, are we?” Avarice asked.

The Noxian threw her a smirk that was pure dark satisfaction. 

_Gods, what has Ahri done to deserve these dangerous women’s focus?_

_…And what have_ I _done, to always find myself on the opposite side of smirking, apex predators?_

…

Speaking of apex predators. Evelynn had hit critical mass for patience in the days they had to spend in the Institute until their arranged leave.

As soon as they drove past the main gate in the diva’s brand-new magenta Lamborghini, a phantom touch coiled around Avarice’s wrists and leg in the passenger seat, like oily ribbons of silk. Avarice would be naïve to say she’d been surprised by it. She sent Evelynn a sideways look for good measure, only to tell herself later she at least tried for _some_ resistance.

“What are you doing?” Fenrir asked when the camouflaged lashers got a tad firmer in their hold. Demanded to be noticed.

A too-charming, sly smirk was thrown her way. It registered across _all_ of her senses, same as the darkness caressing over the vulnerable spots of her forearm and underneath her knee. Avarice shifted subtly. “I’m not doing anything.”

So she claimed, yet the teasing trail moved up her bicep, while another snaked across her stomach, slipping underneath her shirt like smoke. Another licked around her thigh the way only fire and water could, somehow both at the same time, a sharp edge laid flat against the inside of her leg in a sensation that should _not_ be quite as exciting as it was. Avarice took a deep breath. The barrier of her clothes did _far_ too little to mute the aethereal strokes.

The only indication Evelynn was even slightly affected by own ministrations was the tightening of her long fingers around the steering wheel. The motion only added to Avarice’s heat. She suddenly couldn’t take her eyes off that hand, _needed_ those digits on her like she’d once needed oxygen. As though reading her emotions, another silken lasher skimmed across her skin, up to her neck, where it wrapped in a painfully arousing sign of possession. 

“ _Evelynn_.” Avarice’s voice broke.

“What, darling?” Evelynn breathed, turning to look at her, eyes _so_ dark. The rest of her face was kept frustratingly neutral.

The smoky appendage at the summoner’s arm nuzzled the inside of her elbow. Avarice’s head hit the back of her seat. “Can you like… pull over?”

Evelynn’s lips suddenly moved close, right next to her ear yet still achingly distant. They hovered there for what felt like both a fraction of a second and a small eternity. “Hmm… no.” the word brushed over a flushed, sensitive neck.

Then she slid back into her seat, the lashers gone from around Avarice like a dream in the wake of dawn. The diva feigned interest in the nature around them as if _nothing_ had happened.

Fenrir’s jaw clenched. She crossed a leg over the other, trying to ignore the uncomfortable gnawing there.

“Good things _come_ to those who wait.” Evelynn husked the pun in her sexy voice.

Avarice bit her lip. It was going to be a _long_ ride.

Evelynn’s garage was gleaming with the beauty of thousand-gold sports cars all neatly parked at a stylish angle, but the summoner paid it little attention, too preoccupied with their infuriating owner. The demoness was before her faster than she could blink, grabbing her hand but stopping Avarice from going for her neck with a hand fisted in her hair. _Fuck._

“If you kiss my neck now, I’ll take you against one of my cars and definitely scratch the paint.” she explained, speech hastier than usual. There was a hint of breathlessness in her voice that Avarice hadn’t heard before but would certainly be unable to live _without_ , from that point onward.

Evelynn took her hand and led her up the stairs, past the hall and straight to her gorgeous, glowing inside pool. She pulled; then pushed her against the glass wall much like their first time. The only difference was the obvious strain to keep her strength in check. Avarice leaned in. Cool lips pressed against a flawless, burning neck in way of asking permission.

Evelynn’s nails dug into her nape at the first experimental suck she gave at her non-beating pulse. But there _was_ something buzzing under her skin, an electric current of raw, untamed force. It was like kissing magic, kissing a Rune. Kissing a _god_.

Utterly addictive.

The demoness pushed her jacket off so as to not rip it apart, but her shirt wasn’t quite so lucky. Avarice didn’t care for it as she continued chasing that glorious feel, having half a mind to unbutton Evelynn’s skirt in the process. At the first sight of a garter belt, pitch-black against her milky-fair skin, Avarice’s breath caught. The demoness gave a low laugh in her ear that may as well have been a touch between her legs with how it affected her.

“Like what you see?” A small nibble at her earlobe accented the question.

_Is it possible to die from being too wet?_

Her inward inquiry took a whole different meaning when Evelynn led her to the edge of the pool, made her kneel, where the warm water was shallow enough to reach her thighs. For a moment, the demoness towered over her like a deity demanding to be worshipped. And Avarice didn’t have any objections to worshipping her, but Evelynn’s creamy legs then framed her own and she started leaning down. Fiery hands pressed at Avarice’s shoulders until she was laying on her back with the diva firmly on top, the water around and underneath an added caress that made every sensation multidimensional. 

Lashers, once again sensed but not seen, slithered around her. Loose enough to be a figment of her imagination, they wrapped around her arms. Around her neck. Waited, while golden eyes observed from above.

“You liked it before.” she spoke, muscles tight like it took all her control not to move, not to greedily take her pleasure. “Do you like it still?”

Avarice felt the lasher at her neck tighten. The water and the bonds should be an instant trigger, yet all she felt was crushing arousal. “I like it.”

Evelynn’s eyes flashed at the admission. She leaned down, full lips a hair’s breadth from her own. “Avarice.” she spoke with the tiniest waver to her name. “It’s not like before. I can feel _everything_ now. I want to move, but I don’t know how controlled I can be.”

“Evelynn.” she said, reaching a hand up to her stunning face. “I’ll still like it.”

Evelynn closed her eyes and released a shuddering breath. When she started to rock her hips into her own, the lashers’ glued to her skin shivering with each dizzying zap of pleasure, there were no further words to be said.

There were only gasps. Moans into the air that smelled as wonderfully as the diva always did. There was endless heat and desperate friction and hands reaching for anything they could greedily mark.

Evelynn was everywhere around her. Into her. Avarice was drowning in her presence like she had in that tar sea, but she’d choose to fall in this one over and over again. Her mind was blank with pleasure. Her whole world revolved around the deep voice so sensually moaning her name by her ear, the body crackling with unearthly energies moving against her.

There was a peak she tumbled over, willingly, sharply. The fall tasted far sweeter than anything that should be allowed to exist in the world. Forbidden and all her own.

Evelynn spread over her, so, so hot she made the water feel cool in comparison, as she recovered from her rapture. The lashers around Avarice’s limbs gently caressed her oversensitive skin.

Minutes later, the diva pulled back and looked at her like she just had a _revelation_.

Avarice knew what that look meant. No sleep for her in sight.

“So, do you want round two in the kitchen, the couch, outside or in my bedroom?” The summoner opened her mouth to speak, but a slender finger at her lips silenced her. “Just a rhetorical question, darling. We’ll get acquainted with _every_ part of my house.”

Avarice thought she was exaggerating.

She wasn’t.

…

Avarice’s ringtone blared in the quiet of Evelynn’s room.

The summoner huffed and dug her face deeper into her pillow, because she couldn’t even _fathom_ willing herself to turn around. She was exhausted –damn Evelynn’s godly stamina— and the only thing she wanted was to spend the morning in bed. And maybe make the demoness get her the best smoothie in town.

Alas, the blasted thing rang again. And again.

Evelynn _tsk’_ d and reached over Avarice to her nightstand, picking the device up and pressing it to her ear.

“Yes?” she answered like she’d just stepped out of a storm. The demoness’ lip quirked, knowing _she_ had been that vortex.

 _“Hello? Is this Avarice Pierce?”_ Fenrir frowned. The voice on the other line sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall from where. _“I’m doctor Reith from Ravenbrook’s hospital –we’ve spoken a few times before.”_

Ocean eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake. “What is it, doctor?” she quickly asked.

_“I have wonderful news for you, Miss Pierce. Your mother is waking up. It would be ideal for your face to be the first she sees after her coma.”_

Avarice was out of bed like a launched missile. “Evelynn—!!” she said, voice wavering from a mixture of disbelief and excitement.

The demoness regarded her from the wardrobe, already dressed. There was something soft in her smile for a moment. Avarice’s gaze only fleetingly caught it, because the next moment a fancy blue shirt was being tossed her direction, to make up for her ripped one.

For once in her life, Avarice was thankful for Evelynn’s driving, practically breaking the sound barrier.

Fenrir dashed down polished grey corridors and while walls. She was out of breath, choking from emotion rather than lack of air, by the time she stood outside the one room she’d visited countless times before. But that instance was different.

She hesitated for a mere moment.

Then she steeled her nerves, turned the handle…

And on the other side, soft blue eyes sluggishly blinked, shifted, to meet her own. Widened.

“Mom!” Avarice’s legs nearly gave out.

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying the entire time until her vision completely blurred. The offending, salty water was rapidly blinked away. She was at her mother’s side in a heartbeat, enveloping her in a powerful hug. Tight enough to hurt, to assure them both that this wasn’t another dream.

_Is this real?_

The woman squeezed back, numb, like she couldn’t believe what was happening.

Avarice couldn’t, either.

“My beautiful girl.” her mother sobbed into her shoulder. “Am I… dead?”

“No, mom. You’re alive and so am I.” she whispered, not trusting her voice to remain steady if it got any louder. “I’m sorry.” The rivers of tears trailed ceaselessly down Avarice’s cheeks.

She never would have thought after everything she went through, that was the moment it would all hit her like a wrecking ball. The moment she finally broke down.

“I’m –I’m so _sorry_!”

The moment when the past Avarice met the present one.

“What do you have to be sorry for…?” her mother’s gentle hands framed her face, her gaze proud. But all Avarice wanted to do was hide away.

_You have no idea what I’ve done to be here._

“My, how you’ve grown.” she breathed, letting out a watery chuckle. “So beautiful. And so… mature. –How much time have I been here?”

“Three years.” Avarice’s gaze fell. Her stomach was in knots. “It’s been three very long years for me.”

“Oh, love. It shows in your eyes.” the woman said. “But you are back with me now. Everything will be alright.” She carefully tucked Fenrir’s hair behind her ear. The mystic stone earrings Evelynn had gifted her glinted as they caught the light.

And it was like the demoness was summoned.

“Hello~” Evelynn peeked past the door like greeting an old friend, when she was well-aware her mother had _never_ liked her. “How are you Ms. Nadine?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I drove your daughter here – _very_ safely, might I add.” Evelynn replied, all lovely charm. Avarice wanted to grimace at the ‘very safely’ part. Speed limits had never exactly been the diva’s thing.

“I see some things haven’t changed in three years.” Avarice’s mother spoke disappointedly. The summoner rose to stand between the two, as though reaching to stop a catastrophe before it could occur. But then… Nadine took a deep breath. Her eyes shifted sideways, as though it pained her to get the following words past her lips. “…Forgive me for what I said, Evelynn. I—I lost my mind when she didn’t show on that stage and I accused you of something terrible.”

Evelynn, too, was taken aback by the confession.

“I mean… _murder_ is a little extreme.” she replied. Avarice _sharply_ elbowed her side. The corner of the diva’s eye crinkled. “Although abducting your lovely daughter to spend some quality time with her has crossed my mind sever—”

Fenrir immediately covered her mouth and walked her backwards, while her mother’s expression was still a step away from horrified.

“Mom needs rest now bye Eve!” she said quickly –too quickly.

Evelynn’s look said _‘I want to be there to see her face when you tell her you’re with me’_.

“And then you wonder my mom doesn’t like you.” Avarice whispered hurriedly, outside the door.

“Her daughter likes me enough for the whole family.” Evelynn winked, her heels tapping down the corridor to give them privacy.

“So, mom—” Fenrir said, walking back into the room, only to be pinned in place by the characteristic ‘mother stare’.

“Please tell me you’re not dating her.”

Avarice took a breath. “Well.” she began.

“I swear if you say yes I may fall back into a coma.”

“Yes and no…?”

They had a lot to talk about.

But Avarice decided an equal lot was best left unsaid.

…

The summoner gave her mother a week to recover without talk of anything stressful. Then she had started sharing bits and pieces of her time in captivity, gaging her reaction. But each ritual she spoke about, however vaguely, seemed like another knife to the heart for the woman. Avarice realized she couldn’t take it.

She couldn’t take the full truth.

Not then. Maybe not ever.

So she steered their conversations away from the past and towards the future. Which… was the dramatic way of putting trying to coax her mother into agreeing for a family dinner with Evelynn. She used every tool a daughter held in her arsenal over a loving parent, from puppy eyes to drawn-out ‘please’s. And finally, finally, Nadine had let out a sigh and a ‘just invite her over. You will anyway’. 

Evelynn had shown on her doorstep dressed to the nines, in dark designer pants and a black sleeveless top that hugged her perfect frame _tight_. Avarice struggled to keep her jaw from hitting the floor, which the demoness acknowledged with an overconfident smirk and a finger underneath her chin.

She brought her mother a bottle of wine that no-doubt cost a fortune and smiled like the human manifestation of charm and grace in their brief exchange.

The diva sat next to her, _close_ , once the table was ready. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t reach out to touch her in front of her mother. Avarice almost missed her little gestures telling the world ‘she’s mine’.

“So.” Nadine spoke mid-way through dinner. “What made you two go from partners to… more-than-partners?” She still couldn’t bring herself to say ‘dating’. But, at least, she was beginning to accept it. _Baby steps_. Avarice thought. 

“We were never _just_ partners, though.” And the good things in life could only last for so long. Evelynn had to flex in front of her mother _again_. “But your daughter took me on some very beautiful forest dates.”

 _Oh, gods._ Avarice’s bite of chicken got stuck in her throat.

“Like picnics?”

“More or less.” Evelynn answered, perfectly composed, while the summoner wished for the earth to open up and swallow her whole. “One thing brought the other and before we knew it we were going out.” Golden eyes fell on her. “We always were sort of inevitable.”

Avarice’s lips tugged into a subtle smile. Then she turned back to her mom, who was regarding them discerningly.

No longer in stark disapproval.

“Of course, you already knew that because your daughter was always _smitten_ with me.” Avarice dropped her face in her palm. “She has really good taste.” Her had shot out to grab Evelynn’s under the table, _pleading_ with her not to say any more.

“On everything except relationships, it seems.” her mother countered none-too-gently.

“Come, now. Try to think of _one_ better option.” The diva leaned back in her seat, all savage magnetism. Nadine opened her mouth to name somebody, anybody, but Evelynn immediately beat her to it. “See, you can’t –it’s impossible.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I would _literally_ kill anyone who ever hurt her.”

About the only truthful thing she said all night.

“And I will literally kill anyone who dares to hurt her now.” Avarice’s mother pinned the demoness with a warning death glare.

“I believe that.”

By some miracle of the gods, the rest of dinner went by uneventfully, filled with talk of the League.

When it was time to say goodnight, Avarice walked Evelynn to the door. She lingered there, admiring her beauty for a moment. Then she leaned in and wrapped her arms around her waist in a soft hug, which the demoness ardently returned. Her fingers dug into Fenrir’s shoulders, refusing to let go.

Avarice was the first to take a step back.

“No kiss for me?” Evelynn smiled in the way she knew made the summoner melt into a puddle of goo.

“I know it won’t be an innocent one and I’m not risking triggering my mom any further with you.” Avarice shook her head at her. The demoness whispered something along the lines of: ‘so ungrateful’.

“I’ll see you soon, darling.” A caress at her jaw –and she was gone like an apparition.

Not for very long, though.

The summoner had only been in bed for a few minutes by the time a soft tap came at her window. In the time it took to smile to herself, a black smoke had already seeped in and solidified next to her.

Evelynn smirked –and then those impossibly attractive lips were sealed over hers, sucking lightly. Waves of tingles broke out across her stomach. Avarice surrendered to the bliss, every fiber in her body humming at the feel of her lover over her again. They had only spent a few days apart, but it had seemed like _too_ long.

Avarice’s hand trailed over a firm breast. The demoness moaned in her mouth, absolutely on purpose. Fenrir broke the kiss and turned onto her side, face shoved into her pillow to refuse _any_ more liplocks. “Stop. I know what you’re doing and I’m not doing this here.”

Evelynn laughed quietly as she settled in behind her. Those darn sexy lips were still too close to her neck for innocent thoughts. “But darling~” she cooed, nibbling on the shell of her ear.

“No. I’m sleeping.” Avarice shifted away, only to be pulled back in.

“I won’t interfere with your sleep…” she said suggestively.

“Your hands are staying above my waist, Eve.”

“I don’t have to use my hands to make you co—”

“Sh!” Avarice turned, fingers pressed to the demoness’ smirking mouth. She was certain her face was red. “Be nice.” Evelynn rolled her pretty eyes but acquiesced. Dropped her head on her pillow, arm sealed around her waist. The mage took a subtle breath. “And be here when I wake up.”

“Always.”

 _I need you with me._ Avarice thought but couldn’t say out loud.

Instead, she took the diva’s hand. Pressed her lips to the inside of her wrist tenderly, an action that spoke words she didn’t _._

There was no need to rush –they had time to say everything they wanted at their own pace. 

They had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bigger powers than even Avarice faced are hinted to be at play here -because I love some good Lovecraftian universal mystery-horror lurking at the far edge of all my stories. That's not in the immediate future tho (the rest of my OCs are still happily derping around, fully unaware). So this little extra chapter hints at something large but focuses on the small scale shenanigans... aka when the parent and the sexy demon girlfriend are subtly throwing daggers at the other with our dear Avarice caught in the middle. I think she more than deserves the happy embarrassment from the women in her life though. 
> 
> And this is it guys, my babies' story has come to a happy end :'). Of course, this won't be last of them, but they're gonna focus on their stuff for now, while we shift our attention to another budding romance within the Institute of Lesbians --ahem, I mean the Institute of War. My next story, Cassiopeia x FemOC is called ''Sands of Time''. If you liked this one, check it out :)
> 
> Many kudos to everyone who dropped a heart and a comment to this story, you help me grow as a writer :)
> 
> Stay awesome!


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